Harry Potter and the New Alliance
by superguy
Summary: During his sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter finds himself head-first into a relationship with his best friend and classmate, Hermione Granger. But, can he hold onto her when she and Draco Malfoy are assigned to be partners in a Herbology project?
1. The Enemy

Chapter One:  
The Enemy  
  
"Draco – I can't believe you stooped to that level!" Lucius Malfoy said as he paced the dorm room. Draco, still in his Quidditch uniform, stood against his dresser as he pulled off his leather gloves and folded them neatly in his hands. His normally neatly combed blonde hair now hung over his eyes, and he had to brush it out of his face in order to pay attention to his ranting father...  
Or pretend to pay attention. How many times had he heard rants like this?  
Too many times, he thought to himself.  
Lucius continued to pace the room, waving his serpent-headed cane around in the air to make his points more visible to Draco. Draco hated it when he did that. He was already feeling bad enough – did his father have to intimidate him on top of it all?  
"You were supposed to spit in his face," his father went on heatedly, not making eye contact as he poured problem after problem in waves at Draco. Draco continued to listen only to make the blows easier. He was glad Crabbe and Goyle weren't there to see this. After all, he'd worked so hard to build up a reputation. Now he wondered if it was his reputation, or his fathers.  
"But, Father – we won the game," he protested, knowing immediately that he shouldn't have.  
His father spun on his heel to glare at him, prodding his chest with the chrome serpent's head.  
"Do you think I really care if you won some pansy game of Quidditch against Gryffindor?"  
This crushed Draco. He'd always thought that his father at least enjoyed watching him take home a victory for Slytherin, his school house. But, apparently now that wasn't even good enough.  
"What you have to realize, Draco," Lucius went on, staring coldly into his son's bright eyes. "Anyone could beat Potter at Quidditch. I want him to be crushed. Do something more cunning next time."  
At this point, Draco snapped.  
"Do you think I enjoy being in fights competing with Potter all the time?"  
He felt his breathing pick up as his father glared down at him.  
"It doesn't matter what you want, Draco. Don't you realize that we're playing at more than a push over Quidditch Cup?"  
Draco looked away. "Y – You-Know-Who is in contact with you, isn't he?" he pressed out.  
"You know I can't tell you anything, Draco –"  
"But I'm your son! What – do you think I'm just going to go up to Dumbledore and tell him everything? Come on Father! I'm not stupid!"  
"You could have fooled me," Lucius pressed on, and Draco could see that he was fighting to hold back his sneer. He saved that for enemies of the Dark Side, but it was occasionally aimed at him. "The way you treated Potter today was disgraceful to our family name. I'm just relieved your mother wasn't here to witness it."  
Draco felt his shoulders loosen as his father walked towards the door to his dorm room. He'd had enough to deal with without his father pressing on him all afternoon.  
But before Lucius stepped out the door, he glanced over his shoulder and glared at Draco.  
"Just do me one thing if that's all you can ever get right in your entire life," he started, his gaze not faltering. "Never – and I mean never shake Potter's hand ever again. None of them. For all we know, their Mudblood ways could be rubbing off on you."  
With that said, he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaving Draco alone.  
Draco let out a sigh as he fell to the bed, letting the warmth of the setting sun filtering through the window wash over him, comforting his trembling body. He hated nothing more than having his father at Hogwarts. He went to school to get away from him. But, a year away wasn't nearly enough time.  
I can't wait until I graduate and get out of here, he thought to himself as he ran his fingers through his messy hair, and for once, he didn't care that it wasn't perfectly combed. He actually liked it messy sometimes. He never really liked any of the preppy school things, though the uniform did look all right on him. He preferred his own clothing – though his father and certainly not his mother disapproved of it. But, he could get away with wearing the Muggle-looking clothing on weekends or during free time. Crabbe and Goyle didn't care.  
Draco peeled the silk Quidditch uniform from his sweat-covered chest and gave a sigh of relief as the cool air hit his hot skin. He was glad he could slip into something more comfortable – even though the uniforms weren't as bad as everyone made them sound.  
Walking over to his wardrobe, he pulled out a pine-green shirt and put it on, shrugging into it after it was over his head. He felt free in the soft fabric. And it was his house colors. Who said you couldn't support your house and look casual as well?  
He pulled on a pair of light khaki's to finish his outfit and folded his uniform, placing it at the foot of his bed for the House Elves to collect and clean. Nobody cared to notice how neat he was.  
Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he tried to straighten his hair a little – but then stopped when he noticed how it looked. It reminded him of what some of the Muggles wore around the school. They were into the whole gel thing, and though Draco used hair gel to keep his hair straight, he'd never thought to use it to make his hair stay messy. He enjoyed the way it made his face look a little brighter.  
Maybe I could do with a new look, he thought to himself as he admired his hair. It wasn't really different, except for being a little messy, but to him – it was all the change in the world.  
This might be the answer, he thought as he crossed the room to the window and pushed it open, letting the evening breeze blow into the room. He hated his reputation of always being angry with people. He didn't want to be a goodie-goodie – He hated those! But, maybe he'd gain a little more respect from his classmates.  
He had to admit that the other Slytherins weren't exactly the best crowd to hand out with. Sure, he could make them laugh, but he could make anybody laugh, excluding his parents. He had been ignoring a craving for real friendship for the past year.  
He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of three voices passing beneath the tower. He recognized them as Potter and his two friends.  
"- Don't worry about it, Harry," came Hermione Granger's voice from below, and Draco watched as the three of them stopped below the window – not noticing him watching – and talked.  
Harry, still wearing his Quidditch uniform, sighed and leaned against the wall.  
"That's the problem, Hermione. I do worry. What if something was to happen? I'd never forgive myself..."  
Draco, intrigued by what he had caught, listened on, resting his head on his fist.  
"Harry," came Ron Weasley's voice as he put a hand on Harry's shoulder, looking reassuringly at him. "I wouldn't let it get to me. Didn't Dumbledore say that the Dementors couldn't get back on school ground?"  
Harry sighed and nodded, and Draco felt a little sorry for the boy he'd always fought with. He too knew of the powers that the Dementor had on the mind, though he'd only heard about it from his father's friends.  
"I know you're struggling, Harry," Hermione pressed on. "But, you have to let that go. That was a freak accident what happened last week. That Dementor was sent as a precaution –"  
"But," Ron cut in. "Dumbledore didn't authorize it. Things are getting too creepy around here. I really don't feel safe anymore."  
Who does? Draco thought coldly to himself. He certainly didn't, even though his father was one of the Death Eaters. They all think I'm so safe, he thought angrily to himself, his temper he'd tried so hard to overcome slipping over him once again, but I'm really not. Who's to say those Dementors don't just suck my soul out anytime they're prowling around?  
He'd had his share of close calls with the Dementors, though nobody noticed. It happened his third year at Hogwarts when the school was swarming with the cold-blooded, filthy creatures. He'd been walking back from the Quidditch game when a Dementor sprung at him on the path. He'd practically wet himself, but that was when one of the Centaurs leaped out of the woods and scared it away.  
"Thank-you –"Draco had started, but the Centaur was gone before he could get off the ground. He'd never forgot what the Centaur had done, and he had a strange inkling that it was the one that had subbed in for Hagrid – the one that Harry always talked about meeting their first year at Hogwarts.  
If Centaurs were that nice, Draco thought to himself as he watched the three friends below continue to talk, I'd have met them sooner. But, he couldn't spread that he was making friends with Mudblood-lovers. That would ruin his reputation of being strong, and he'd never live it down with the other Slytherin's.  
"- It's okay, Harry," Hermione said as she took Harry into an embrace. In public, Draco would have mocked the display of affection towards another student, but deep inside he wished that he had someone who would hug him.  
Harry closed his eyes and rested his head against her shoulder and Draco could tell it had helped him.  
"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said as they parted and Ron patted him on the back. "I'm just glad we're still friends after what I...did last year." He looked away guiltily. "I'm sorry about everything, you know."  
Ron smiled.  
"We know, now stop bringing it back up!"  
Harry shared a chuckle with them, and Draco caught the way Hermione's smile lit up when she laughed. He'd never really seen her smile, or at least not in his presence. He liked it.  
"Let's get you changed so we can go see Hagrid tonight," she said as she took his hand and they walked away towards the entrance hall.  
Draco stood up as he watched them walk away hand-in-hand. He didn't know that Hermione and Harry were a couple.  
Maybe I'm just assuming, he thought to himself as he turned away from the window and the fading sun. It had disappeared behind the trees in the distance. But then again, what do I care? I don't like Granger. At least – not like that.  
And with that, he left his room and went out into the common room, hoping to find something remotely like the friendship the three below him shared in his pack of Slytherin classmates. 


	2. Evening with the Erkling

Chapter Two:  
  
Evening with the Erkling  
  
Harry Potter, a boy sixteen years old, shrugged out of his scarlet Quidditch uniform and pulled on a pair of khakis and a T-shirt, grabbing his Hogwarts robe and his father's Invisibility Cloak before dashing out of his room. He met Ron and Hermione at the foot of the stairs leading into the Gryffindor common room.  
He was glad that the common room was empty tonight. He hated having to sneak out around first years. He never really liked sneaking out. Well, not all the time.   
"You guys ready to go?" he asked as they headed towards the portrait hole and slipped out.   
"Geeze, you look ruffled," Hermione said as she tried to flatten Harry's hair, but Harry waved her hand away. She'd been doing that a lot lately.   
"It's no use, Hermione," he said as they descended the marble staircase, Harry pulling out the invisibility cloak from under his arm as he draped it over them. "My hair's never going to be perfect."   
Ron laughed.   
"You haven't figured that out after five years, Hermione?" he asked with a grin, and she frowned.   
"I was just trying to be helpful..." she grumbled as she ducked under the cloak and Harry took the lead. She looked up to see his determined glance at the entrance hall doors.   
"Ssh, Hermione," Harry said quietly as they walked across the entrance hall and opened the giant door leading outside to the grounds. "We don't know where Filch is."   
Harry liked the way the air was cooler during the night. It was such a change from the heat and humidity of the day. The grass was wet and the hems of his pant legs were slowly becoming wet with dew.   
He spotted Hagrid's hut in the distance, near the Forbidden Forest, which he was no stranger to anymore. The windows were brightly lit by the roaring fire inside the hut, and Harry had no doubt that Hagrid was cooking something (dissatisfying to them) for his dinner. They had learned to avoid Hagrid's meals, unless they were in the Great Hall.   
He pulled the invisibility cloak off of them and folded it over his arm as Hermione knocked on the door. They heard the howls of Fang, Hagrid's watchdog, and then the sound of Hagrid undoing the lock on his door. With a creak, the door swung open slowly, revealing the hairy face of their friend and the Hogwarts Groundskeeper, Hagrid.   
"Oh," he started as he saw all three of them standing on his doorstep. "I wasn' expectin' you three ou' so late."   
"I thought you of all people would have known us to be night prowlers," Ron said as Hagrid stepped aside to let them in.   
"Wow – Hagrid!" Hermione started as she took a seat in her usual fur- covered armchair.   
Harry, too, had to look around the relatively small hut in awe as he spotted all the scrapings along Hagrid's walls.   
"What did this, Hagrid?" Harry asked as he turned around to get a better look at all the walls. "These look almost like –"  
"Claw marks?" Hagrid finished.   
"Exactly," Harry replied.   
"That's 'cause they are, Harry," Hagrid started, making his way over to the roaring fire where a spit had been set up and an animal was slowly roasting above the flickering flames.   
"But –"Ron started, but Hagrid cut in as he started turning the spit.   
"Bu' you wanna know wha' made 'em?"   
Ron nodded.   
"I know you three better 'an you think." he said with a twinkle in his eye.   
"So, what did do this to your walls, Hagrid?" Hermione said as Harry slid a chair beside hers and sat down in it.   
"Oh," Hagrid starting, enjoying the suspense he was building. "I really shouldn' be tellin' you this, but it's next class's...subject."   
Ron grinned, and Harry gave him a disbelieving stare.   
"You know how to keep class interesting, don't you, Hagrid?" he said as he caught Harry and Hermione's stares and sat back in his seat.   
"Don't encourage him, Ron!" Hermione said as she shot him a piercing glance. "Hagrid –"she started as she looked over to Hagrid who had taken his seat back at the table and began chopping up a sort of root he had been growing in his garden. "This isn't a...dangerous subject, is it?"   
Hagrid grinned at her. "Calm down, 'Ermione," he chuckled, not being able to soften her alarm. "It's perfectly legal. Dumbledore 'imself even requested that you get a chance to experience them first hand."   
This made Harry a little calmer. If Dumbledore had requested it, it couldn't be too dangerous. He hoped.   
"So, Hagrid," Ron started, sitting on the edge of his seat. "What is it?"   
Harry looked around to see that all three of them were as eager as Ron to hear what it was they would be handling in Care of Magical Creatures class in two days.   
"Well...if you must see it, I s'pose it won' hurt to show 'em to yeh." He walked over to a trunk and carefully extracted a key from one of his many coat pockets, (Harry wondered how he kept track of them all) and slid it into the padlock keeping the trunk closed. With a click, the lock snapped open and Hagrid cautiously lifted the lid of the trunk and pulled out a cage with a stout creature, slightly larger than a gnome, with a pointed face wearing grubby rags to cover its nakedness.   
At first glance, Harry would have mistaken it for a house elf, but it was far too small for a house elf and it was a lot uglier.   
"Hagrid – no! You didn't –"  
Hagrid nodded as he set the cage on the table and stepped back so that they could see.   
"You don' have to worry, 'Ermione," he said as the creature produced a high- pitched cackle that caused them to cover their ears for a moment until it quieted and sat down on the floor of the cage and cross its chubby arms. "There's on'y one of 'em."   
Harry still oblivious to what it was, got up and took a step towards the cage to get a better look. The creature spotted Harry and snapped its mouth at him, revealing a mouth of razor-sharp teeth. He jumped back, almost landing in Hermione's lap as he bumped up against her chair.   
"What in the world is that thing?" he asked as he took his seat, feeling a little unsettled.   
"An Erkling," Hagrid said as he tapped the cage a few times and caused the Erkling to settle down.   
"But – those are only supposed to be handled by trained wizards," Ron started as he got up, still smiling despite the danger of the creature. "In that Fantastic Beasts book by that Salamander guy ("Scamander!" Hermione cut in,) it's classified as four X's."   
"Ron," Hagrid started. "You don' think I can handle a little Erkling? I am your professor after all." Hermione still looked a little upset that the thing was in the same room as her.   
"I trust you, Hagrid," she started. "But – those things have been known to eat children!" Harry looked at it with disgust.   
"Has this one..." he started, not at all intrigued by the ruthless little creature.   
"No. This one's been bread in captivity," Hagrid said, relieving all of them.   
"Good," Hermione started as she brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. "Because, if it had eaten a child – I wouldn't have been able to look at it, much less learn about it."   
Hagrid chuckled.   
"No, there hasn' been a recorded attack on a child since 1975, and the child killed it. They're on'y dangerous when they've go' you in their trance, lurin' you to 'em."   
Harry was glad that it wasn't screeching anymore.   
"How does it lure you to it?" he asked curiously.   
"Wi' it's screech," Hagrid replied, and Ron gave a disgusted groan.   
"Who'd follow a horrible screech like that?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"So...why'd you three come down here anyway?" Hagrid asked as he returned the Erkling to its trunk and replaced the lock, checking on the animal being roasted before returning to his seat.  
"We just wanted to visit, you know," Harry said as he looked towards the fire. "By the way – what in the world is that you're cooking?"  
Hagrid gave a start and smiled, enthusiastically. "That's somethin' I've waited five years to get. I've been on the waitin' list for this beauty." He got up again and turned the spit, then, pulled off a piece of the meat with his fingers and blew on it. "S'probably ready by now. Been cookin' it all day."  
He handed Harry a piece of the meat, and did the same to Ron and Hermione. Harry sniffed it suspiciously and then peered over at Hermione who was doing the same. Ron, who couldn't refuse a new food, took a bite of the meat and smiled as he rolled it around in his mouth.  
"This is pretty tasty," he said as he swallowed. "What is it?"  
"Nogtail meat," Hagrid said as he took a chunk of meat and took a bite, savoring it. "They're so hard to catch, Nogtails. Bu', I've been on the waitin' lis' for one o' these for a while. They're pretty rare and not to mention, tasty."  
Harry took a bite and found the warm meat to be not bad. It tasted a lot like pork, though he'd only eaten this on the rare occasions when the Dursley's decided to actually give him enough to taste.  
After a while of small talk with Hagrid about classes, the three of them decided it was time to head back. Harry, more importantly, had something he'd been planning on doing on their trip back to the castle.  
They started off towards the front entrance, but Harry pulled Hermione back. Ron stopped and turned around, giving Harry a questioning glance.  
"Go ahead, Ron," Harry started quickly. "We'll catch up."  
Ron looked bewildered for a moment, then a look of understanding fell over his face and he shrugged, continuing to walk towards the castle.  
"Harry? What is it?" Hermione asked as she looked up at him. His face was half bathed in moonlight, and it glinted off his glasses.  
"I wanted to talk to you...alone," he replied as he started walking beside her as leading her off the path and along the forest edge. "I was hoping I'd get the chance tonight."  
Hermione, though still a little bewildered, walked with him.  
Harry led them down towards the Great Lake where the moonlight reflected off the water's glassy surface. He slowed and turned to face her. With a deep sigh, he started.  
"Hermione – no, wait...I can't do this," he said as he turned away, looking out over the water.  
But Hermione coaxed him on.  
"What is it, Harry? You can tell me."  
After a moment of hesitation, Harry started talking, keeping his gaze on the lake.  
"Hermione – today, after the Quidditch match, something happened." Hermione looked alarmed, but Harry went on. "Nothing serious – just something I've been avoiding. Hermione, when you hugged me today, something fired up in me that's been asleep for so long. I felt happy for once in a long time. Just being around you is..."  
His voice trailed off, but Hermione got what he was saying.  
She glanced down at his hand and saw that his fingers were twitching with nervousness a little. She took a slow step towards him and took his hand, lacing their fingers. This seemed to calm Harry a little, and he smiled, sighing out some of the tension between them.  
"Hermione, what I'm trying to say is that I...like you."  
This made Hermione smile.  
"Well," she said, softly. "I wasn't expecting this."  
Harry turned to face her.  
"Today, you made me feel like I was stronger than anybody in the whole world. Hermione – when I'm around you, I feel...complete." He took her other hand in his and looked down at her face, the silver light reflecting off the lake playing against her face. "Hermione...I have to ask you this, or I think I'll go out of my mind. Will you...go out with me?"  
Hermione smiled, stepping closer to him.  
"Yes," she said before their lips brushed against each other. They shared a soft kiss in front of the lake that night. It lasted only so long, though, because they had to get back to the castle before Ron got suspicious.  
Hand-in-hand, they walked across the grounds towards the castle. 


	3. Confrontation

Chapter Three:  
Confrontation  
  
Harry pulled off his shirt and placed his glasses on the marble counter in the Quidditch locker room as he stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash over his clammy body. He felt like he could fly right now as he pushed his hair back and let the water soak into him.  
At last...at long last he and her Hermione were a couple.  
Reaching for the soap, the thought about how long he'd wanted to do that this year came to him. How many times had he found himself and Hermione alone together?  
Countless times, he thought to himself as he rubbed the sweet-scented soap between his palms and washed away the grime of the day, feeling clean again.  
As he stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, he jumped as he spotted Ron sitting on one of the benches beside his clothing.  
"Ron –"he started as he squeezed the water from his hair and continued to dry off.  
Ron just sat there with a stern expression on his face, though Harry couldn't tell without his glasses on. He picked them up off the counter and put them on, continuing to dry off.  
"Too lonely in the dorms for you, huh –"he started, but stopped as he saw Ron's expression.  
"You asked her, didn't you?" he said flatly.  
Harry avoided Ron's eyes as he picked up his clothes and started to dress.  
"Yeah," he replied as he pulled on his pants. He caught Ron's unchanged expression again and stopped, giving Ron his full attention. "So? What do you care? It's not like you –"  
"Liked her?" Ron finished.  
Harry felt a little uneasy as he finished dressing, turning to the mirror where he tried to flatten his hair, and not realizing the irony of it all.  
"Well, yeah," he went on. "You didn't like Hermione...did you?"  
Ron shrugged.  
"Maybe I did. But, what chance do I have now?" He sighed as he handed Harry another towel and he continued drying his hair. "Harry – look. I'm sorry, okay. I shouldn't have come down here in the first place to fume at you."  
"No – It's alright, Ron," Harry started as he lowered the towel from his face and looked at Ron. "I understand. Hermione's pretty..."  
"Nice?" Ron finished.  
Harry chuckled.  
"How do you always finish my sentences?" he asked as he walked over to Ron. He took a seat beside him and started putting on his socks and shoes. Ron watched him, deep in thought.  
"You know what, Harry?" he said after a while. Harry looked up and caught his eyes.  
"What?"  
"I'm glad you two are a couple finally."  
Harry smiled and put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "You don't know how good that makes me feel," he said finally as he stood up. "We'd better get back to the dormitory," he started as he snatched up all his dirty clothing. "Don't want to be busted for being out too late. Besides – someone might make up rumors!" he teased.  
"About us?" Ron chuckled. "Oh yeah. I sneak out at night to meet you in the Quidditch showers. As if I don't get enough chances during the day, right?"  
They both shared a laugh as they ducked under the invisibility cloak and started off towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.  
  
Hermione lay awake in her bed and smiled.  
I thought he was never going to ask me, she thought to herself as she rolled over to lie on her back, staring at the canopy above her. Ever since their fourth year at Hogwarts when Harry had attempted to rescue her from the Great Lake when Viktor Krum wasn't showing up, she'd considered him her knight in shining armor.  
He is really sweet, she admitted as she looked over at the window beside her bed and spotted the stars outside. She'd never look at the stars the same way.  
She wondered what Harry was doing now.  
Probably dreaming, she decided as she tried to close her eyes.  
"Who am I kidding?" she whispered to herself as she sat up in her bed. She'd never get to sleep now. Leaning over the side of her four poster bed, she reached into her bag and pulled out a sheaf of parchment and a quill, lighting her bed with her wand.  
She unrolled the parchment over her legs and put the tip of the quill in her mouth, pondering what to write.  
For once in her life, she didn't know what to say.  
Finally, she started to write.  
  
Harry,  
I can't sleep. I keep thinking about tonight. It's running  
through my head like a never-ending film, though most of the  
details are fading away like water through my fingers. I'm glad  
we had that moment alone by the lake. I've never felt anything like  
it before. For once, I felt perfect. Viktor, one of the most famous  
Quidditch players in the world, couldn't make me feel as good as  
you do.  
I await eating lunch with you this afternoon.  
  
That was good, she thought to herself, then quickly scrawled inside a giant heart in her feathery handwriting:  
  
Love Always,  
Hermione  
  
Perfect, she thought to herself as she folded the parchment and put the quill away in her bag.  
She couldn't wait to give it to Harry the next morning. 


	4. Potions Class

Chapter Four:  
Potions Class  
  
The next morning, Harry caught Hermione sitting before the fire and walked up behind her chair, leaning in behind her to give her a kiss on the cheek. She looked up to see him and smiled.  
"Hey," she started as she finished writing something on a piece of parchment and put it hastily away.  
"What's this?" he asked as he watched her put the parchment in her bag. He reached for it and smiled as he spotted the heading. "Herbology homework? You're slacking off now too?"  
She smiled as he gave her another kiss on the cheek and came around to sit beside her on the couch.  
"You've rubbed off on me," she said as she pulled the fancy note out of her pocket without him noticing and held it in her palm nervously. She'd braved the O.W.L.'s, and she'd never had nerves like these before.  
"Is that a good thing?" Harry asked as he looked deeply into her eyes.  
She nodded as their faces got closer.  
"Definitely," she said before they shared a kiss.  
Harry heard a chuckled and looked up to see Ron standing behind them, grinning.  
"Well, you two waste no time getting into the swing of things," he said as he came around the couch and sat in the armchair opposite them. Harry smiled. "You two ready to brave Snape's class?" he asked, and awaited Harry's groan.  
But, Harry didn't groan.  
"I can handle it," he said flatly as if Snape's class were nothing and took Hermione's hand. "As long as Hermione's with me, I can brave anything Snape throws my way."  
Ron rolled his eyes in an if-you-say-so manner and they got up and headed out the portrait hole towards the staircase, Hermione and Harry holding hands in the front, Ron behind them.  
The sight of the two of them holding hands made him a little down, so he didn't realize he was lagging behind until Harry said something.  
"Ron – you okay?"  
Ron nodded his head fervently, wanting to look as though it were nothing. But, really, it wasn't nothing at all. It was everything.  
Nobody knew the way he felt.  
And they probably never will, Ron thought angrily to himself. But, he had to put on a happy face for Harry and Hermione. Harry was his friend, after all, and he didn't want to lose a friendship over something...  
He shook his head.  
It was nothing. Nothing at all.  
He had to sprint to catch up to them, but he did eventually, and they made their way down the marble staircase towards the dungeons where their most hated class was held.  
  
Harry took a seat beside Hermione in the third row of desks. Ron, seeing that there weren't enough seats in a row, took the seat behind Harry. He hated not being included in the group. What if he had to sit beside someone like...Malfoy?  
I wish we could be a threesome, he thought with a chuckle, shaking the thought from his head. Leave it to his sense of humor.  
Taking out a piece of parchment and a quill, Ron put his feet up on the basket beneath Harry's desk. He hated the hard wood desks, but if he positioned himself just right, he could handle sitting in them for a block.  
Things were starting to look okay for Ron, until Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle entered the dungeon.  
Malfoy definitely looked different. His hair wasn't its usual slicked-back style. It was messy and almost... Muggle, Ron thought to himself. Harry and Hermione paid no attention to Malfoy because they were too busy paying attention to each other.  
Malfoy snickered at Ron, and Ron realized that despite the new, friendlier look on Malfoy, he was still his same old self.  
"What's this, Weasley?" he started as he took a seat in the row across from Ron's. "Did the trio split up?"  
Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly and Ron groaned, letting his head fall to the desk into his folded arms. It was going to be a long Potions class.  
  
Snape eventually entered the dungeon; his same old black-clad self. Ron wasn't surprised. That was how greasy-haired Snape always was. He looked down his long nose at Harry and Hermione as he passed by them, pulling his wand from his robes and preparing to use it on the cauldron before him.  
"Right, then," he said in his nasal-toned voice. "Today we have a long sheaf of notes to take."  
The whole class, except for the Slytherins groaned. Snape took no notice of this as he went on.  
"But, first off, I would like to section you off in groups. I can't help but notice the little snogging party going on in the third row between Potter and Granger. Don't look so sad, Potter. It's only for a block, after all."  
Harry groaned. That was the last thing he needed. But, he wasn't going to lose it in front of Hermione now that they were a couple. He was determined to have a little more self-control over his anger towards Snape and the Slytherins.  
"I would like Potter with Goyle," he started, after running down the list of students, pairing them up and moving them around the room to different couples of desks. "Granger with Patil, and...let me see...Weasley with Malfoy. Hurry up, or it will be two sheaves of notes to copy. I can easily conjure more."  
Ron grudgingly got up from his desk and placed his things in the desk beside Malfoy. Malfoy grinned with a twinkle in his eye as if this were like a gift to him. He'd have poor Ron to pick on all during class. And he didn't like taking notes, so this wasn't his happiest class of the day. He couldn't wait to get to Herbology now.  
"Now that you're all settled in..." Snape started, but Ron wasn't paying attention because Malfoy started whispering snide comments at him across the desk.  
"So, Weasley, what's going on between the freak and the Mudblood?"  
Crabbe heard this and snickered.  
Ron was determined to keep his mouth shut and glanced back at Harry who looked like he shared the same idea. Harry nodded; understanding how Ron felt and Ron looked back up at the blackboard where the chalk started writing notes in a scribbling that was Snape's handwriting.  
"What's the matter?" Malfoy pressed on. "Not going to say anything back? I asked you a question."  
Still, Ron said nothing.  
"Well then. If you're not in a telling mood, you must be in a hearing mood. So, I hear they kicked you off the Quidditch team?"  
Ron knew this was true, though he didn't want to take it as being kicked off. He knew he couldn't really play Quidditch without some extra training, so bowed out for the first half of the season. He'd be a stand- in for the other Keeper if he got injured or sick.  
"I also heard they kicked you off because of what was going on in the locker rooms, too." This made Ron look up and Malfoy grinned. "Too much excitement in there for you, huh?"  
This made Ron's face turn red with anger.  
"I know how you and Potter find those...what's the word? Special moments in the showers. Everybody knows, Weasley."  
Ron knew that Malfoy was just trying to get a reaction out of him, so he tried to look as though he were paying close attention to the notes on the board. Apparently Malfoy had come up with some more adult ways of trying to get a rise out him, and he wasn't going to fall for them.  
"Yeah. It's a pity you haven't got a girlfriend, Weasley. But, you know it's okay to admit it. Everyone's come out sooner or later."  
That was it. Ron couldn't hold it in any longer.  
"Look, Malfoy –"he started to hiss, but was cut off by Snape.  
"Weasley. If you think I haven't seen you talking this whole time, you are mistaken."  
Ron gave him a disbelieving stare as Snape walked towards his desk and looked down at his parchment.  
"Why are there no notes on this parchment?" he asked as he picked up the parchment. It was blank except for the words, Potions Notes at the top.  
"I – it was all Malfoy's –"  
"Stop making silly excuses you disgrace of a student, and see me this evening for detention."  
"Detention?" Ron said exasperatedly.  
"For three hours." Snape finished as he got to his desk and began writing on a spare piece of parchment, reading what he wrote aloud. "Weasley refuses to take notes in class and constantly talks behind Professor's back. Will serve three hours of detention and copy notes then, after scrubbing all the cauldrons until they're sparkling clean and mop dungeon floors."  
He finished writing and handed the parchment to Ron who gave a resigned sigh and looked back at Harry who looked like he felt just as bad as Ron did. No doubt he could hear the things Malfoy had been saying. Of course, none of them were true. But, they still got to Ron.  
"To get on with class," Snape started again as he gave Ron a glance, a sparkle in his eye. "Continue copying notes and then we will proceed with doing the potion task."  
Ron continued to copy the notes, trying to get as much of it done as he could, until they were finished and were instructed to retrieve their cauldrons and begin the lab.  
Ron hated working beside Malfoy. He kept making snide comments like, "Too bad your boyfriend's not here to defend you," and, "Potter finally went in the right direction with his relationship, huh?"  
Ron was glad when the class was finally over. They had a break for a while, though Hermione rarely took breaks, spending her 15-minute break before lunch going to the Library to bury her nose behind a bunch of books about the History of Magic.  
Harry caught up to Ron with Hermione not far behind.  
"Ron – I'm sorry about what happened."  
Ron felt awful and his face didn't hide it.  
"At least somebody's sorry about it," he said as his lips trembled. Harry hated seeing Ron hurt, so put a hand on Ron's shoulder as Hermione got on the other side.  
"If it helps, we'll wait for you outside the Dungeon until you get out." Hermione suggested, but Ron shook his head.  
"You two can just go off and do something else. I can handle it."  
"Okay," Hermione said as she pulled something out of her pocket and handed it to Harry.  
"What's this?" he asked as he looked down at the square of folded parchment.  
"It's a note I wrote for you." she replied plainly as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll catch you two at lunch."  
With that, she hurried out of sight down the hallway.  
Ron seemed a little distracted from his bad mood by the note, and Harry looked over at him before he started to open it.  
But a hand shot out and snatched it from him before he even got a chance to see the flowery handwriting that was Hermione's on the page. Malfoy stood before them, snickering with Crabbe and Goyle beside him as he looked down at the note.  
"What's this, Potter?"  
"Give me that back! It's mine!" Harry said heatedly as he reached for the note, but Malfoy raised it up over his head.  
"Now, now, Potter. No need to be greedy," he said as he unfolded the note and started laughing. "It's true then?" he said with a chuckle. "Potter and the Mudblood are a couple! Finally decided to dump Weasley, did you?"  
This set Harry off. He lunged at Malfoy, attempting to grab the parchment, but Malfoy stepped aside before Harry could reach him, and started to read the note aloud.  
"Harry, I can't sleep. Keeping her awake now, Potter? I thought you only did that for Weasley. I keep thinking about tonight. It's running through my head like a never-ending film, though most of the details are fading away like water through my fingers. Ooh. When they use a metaphor, Potter, they must be serious. I didn't think you attracted them that much.  
"I'm glad we had that moment alone by the lake." He paused to give everyone a chance to laugh. "What'd you do by the lake, Potter? Didn't know you were that capable... I've never felt anything like it before. I should say not. Nobody like's Mudbloods. They're out of season. For once, I felt perfect. Too bad she isn't really. Viktor, one of the most famous Quidditch players in the world, couldn't make me feel as good as you do. I await eating lunch with you this afternoon. Love Always, Hermione."   
Harry would have lunged at Malfoy if Ron weren't holding him back by the arm.   
"Wow Potter. That was so sweet."   
This received a chuckle from all the Slytherins who had been attracted by the reading of Harry's note.   
"You are going to pay, Malfoy," Harry said through gritted teeth.   
"Oh, am I?" Malfoy replied. "I'll just inform Snape that you were threatening me and you can join Weasley in detention. Oh, but you'd enjoy that too much. Can't be parted from one another for long, can you? You only spend half the summer at the Mudblood-lover's house!"   
Ron couldn't hold Harry back any longer, and Harry lunged at Malfoy, ripping the note from his hands and slugging him in the gut. Malfoy gasped as the fist hit his stomach and he gasped for air, Harry stepping back and pushing Ron down the hallway.   
"Come on," he said as they made their way quickly towards the Great Hall. "Before he gets a chance to call for Snape." 


	5. The Herbology Project

Chapter Five:  
The Herbology Project  
  
Ron could see that Harry was fuming, and hated it. It reminded him of how Harry had been their last year at Hogwarts. But that was behind them. Everything was okay now...for a while.  
Why did Malfoy have to be so antagonizing? He thought to himself as he and Harry stopped in a deserted classroom so that Harry could let out his frustration without being seen, or more importantly, mocked by Slytherins.  
Harry leaned against the wall and slid slowly to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest. He sobbed silently to himself.  
"Oh Ron –"he struggled as his eyes got watery. "I can't believe I just did that..."  
Ron didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, so he just stood uncomfortably before Harry, waiting for him to say more.  
"I should have stopped myself," he said bitterly "I told myself I'd try to get along since I asked Hermione to be my girlfriend."  
Ron took a seat beside Harry and, hesitating at first, put an arm around Harry's shoulders, trying to comfort him. He half expected Harry to shrug him away, but Harry leaned into him, accepting the pat on the shoulder.  
"Harry...stop crying. You know Malfoy thrives on making you mad. None of that stuff was..."  
His voice trailed off as he thought about what he was saying. What if some of the stuff Malfoy said was true? Not for him, but for Harry...  
Perhaps that was why Harry was so shook up over Malfoy's comments.  
"Harry...I'm sorry."  
Harry looked up, his face tear stained as he struggled to stem the tears.  
"What?"  
"I'm sorry," he went on. "About what Malfoy said."  
Harry chuckled, trying to wipe away the hurt inside him.  
"Ron – it wasn't your fault."  
Ron felt a tinge of guilt in his stomach, and went on. "But, I think some of it is." Harry looked up, a little confused, but Ron continued. "I had a feeling someone would spread rumors about us. You know – being...close."  
"Ron – you know that's just Malfoy trying to get a rise out of you –"  
"But it did more than that!" Ron said, his turn to get upset. "He's right, you know. I don't have a girlfriend. That's more that enough for someone to make assumptions."  
"Ron, we know you're not..." His voice trailed off.  
"I know that you know," Ron went on. "But the Slytherins are going to spread rumors, and I'll never be able to live them down."  
Harry knew where Ron was coming from. He, too, had been expecting this. But, there was nothing they could do about it now. They'd just deny it if it were brought up again.  
"Look, Ron – I'll always be here for you."  
Ron smiled as Harry got up and offered him a hand.  
"Now, come on. Hermione's waiting in the Great Hall for us."  
Draco doubled over his stomach as he gasped for breath.  
Well, he thought to himself. So much for starting anew and gaining more respect.  
He was surrounded by a group of Slytherin's who continued to ask him if he were okay. Once he caught his breath, he replied, "I...I'm fine..."  
Why did I have to do that? He asked himself in his head. He had wanted to be a better person so bad the night before, and now he'd blown it. I'll try again later, he thought to himself.  
Suddenly, Snape appeared in the doorway of the Dungeon and came out to see what all the commotion was about.  
"What's going on here?" he asked as he watched the crowd of students. He looked down to see Draco straightening up and gave him an expectant glance. "Malfoy? What's going on here?"  
This was his chance. He could get even with Harry and he'd be set.  
But, he waved it off.  
"It was nothing, Professor," he replied to the shock of his classmates. "I just got a little woozy, that's all."  
Snape gave him a penetrating stare for a few moments, then looked away.  
"Alright then. You'd better go on to lunch."  
  
Hermione looked up to see Harry and Ron walking into the Great Hall. They looked exceptionally happy after their horrible Potions class.  
"Well, you two look like you're in good moods," she said as Harry sat next her, giving her a kiss on the cheek while Ron sat opposite them.  
"Well, your note was really nice," Harry said as he started piling things on his plate.  
"So you liked it, then?" she asked as she glanced over at Ron who grinned. She shrugged and continued eating.  
Harry looked up after a while to spot Malfoy entering the Great Hall, heading towards the Slytherin table, accompanied by a group of Slytherins who continued to ask him if he were okay.  
Hermione looked to see what he was looking at, and sighed when she spotted what it was.  
"Did he do something again?" she asked as Ron avoided her eyes.  
"Yeah, but it was nothing," Harry replied as he reached down and began searching for something in his bag. He found it after a few minutes of rummaging. Hermione smiled when she looked up at him, surprised when he handed her a messily folded piece of parchment. "This is for you," he said as he gave it to her.  
"Harry, what's this?" she asked as she held the note in her hand.  
"It's not as neat as yours was, but –"Harry started as he continued eating. "I hope it's just as meaningful."  
Hermione smiled as she awed over the note. She'd never really received a real note from someone before.  
"Harry – you're too sweet." she said as she gave him a peck on the cheek.  
Harry smiled and Ron, again, looked a little down.  
Lunch soon ended, and they made their way out to Herbology class in Greenhouse 7.  
It was a nice day and Harry wished they were outside instead of being in a muggy greenhouse all block. But, it wasn't that bad. He was with Hermione and that made everything better. They held hands, fingers laced, while Ron stood off to the side, uneasily. Harry had just started to notice the change in Ron when he and Hermione were together.  
Professor Sprout, a short, pleasantly plump woman wearing a pointy hat and garden gloves entered the greenhouse after a few minutes of down time between the blocks.  
"Good afternoon, class," she started as the students muttered their good-afternoons. Professor Sprout smiled as she looked around the greenhouse at the class each in turn. "Well, today is an important day for all of you." The class shared nervous glances. Of course, this could mean anything from a pop-quiz to a new, deadly plant.  
"Today we will be starting a new project." The class groaned as one. A quiz would have been better than that. "This project will be a long- term project, and I will be assigning you each a partner."  
Harry crossed his fingers hoping that his partner was Hermione, though there was a pang of doubt deep in his mind that it wouldn't be so.  
Professor Sprout continued to explain the project.  
"This project will involve each of you – in groups of course – researching a magical plant, discussing their magical properties in a five- to-ten minute presentation to the class at the end of your research time."  
Hermione raised her hand tentatively.  
"Yes, Miss Granger?"  
"How long will we have to research the project?"  
"Three weeks. I have compiled a list of the plants you may choose from. They are each found either here or at Hagrid's in his garden. He's graciously agreed to nurture the plants specifically for this purpose.  
"Now then, to assign the partners..."  
She began listing off people. It was a while before she got to Harry and Ron.  
"Potter, you'll be working with Mr. Finnigan."  
Harry, though a little hurt that he wouldn't be working with Hermione didn't mind working with Seamus. They'd been friends since their first year at Hogwarts.  
"Mr. Weasley, you'll be working with Miss Patil."  
Parvati gave a disgusted groan as Ron sighed. That would be an...interesting group.  
"And finally, Miss Granger will be working with Mr. Malfoy."  
Hermione expected Malfoy to give her an evil grin, but when she looked up at him, he had a resigned look on his face. His Slytherin pals, though, snickered. For once, he looked out of place.  
Harry squeezed her hand and she gave him a tiny smile. He leaned down to speak into her ear.  
"You going to be okay?" he asked.  
Though she felt completely rotten, she nodded. Maybe Malfoy would give her a break and they'd actually get some work done. Her plan was to get the project done as soon as possible and have as little contact with Malfoy as possible. Malfoy appeared to be avoiding her stare.  
"So, anyway, now that we've got that out of the way, we can get started," Professor Sprout said with a smile, oblivious to the unease that had settled over the class.  
It was going to be a long Herbology class. 


	6. The First Date

Chapter Six:  
The First Date  
  
The Great Hall was crowded as students hurried to get to their seats, eager to eat before getting to their dormitories. The ceiling, the picture of the night sky above them, was lit brilliantly with the full moon and hundreds of twinkling stars.  
Hermione, Harry and Ron sat down at their usual spot at the Gryffindor table and started piling things on their golden plates.  
"Well, today has certainly been an...interesting day," Harry said as he looked at Ron who groaned. He was sporting a large scratch over one eye that his plant in Herbology had given him. He sighed as he rubbed it, but Hermione scolded him.  
"Ron! Stop rubbing it! It'll get infected!"  
Ron rolled his eyes.  
"Hermione, I think I can handle a little scratch," he replied smartly as he began eating his roast turkey. Hermione pretended she didn't care about it anymore and started paying attention to her plate as well.  
Harry, after a while of eating in silence, started.  
"Hermione?"  
Hermione looked up.  
"I'm sorry that you got paired up with Malfoy," he said as he looked into her eyes. She felt a little uncomfortable looking into his emerald eyes, so looked back down at her plate.  
"You and me both." she replied as she pushed her peas around her plate.  
"You know, maybe you could talk to Professor Sprout or something and switch partners –"  
"Harry, really," Hermione cut in. "I'm fine with it. It's just a stupid project...that's all it is. I can handle it."  
Harry didn't believe her, but nodded anyway. It was no use fighting with her over the way she felt. He too looked down at his plate, finding it now more interesting than it had ever been.  
Suddenly, they heard someone behind them clear their throat.  
Harry looked up to see Malfoy standing expectantly behind them. He glared at him, not missing the opportunity to tell him off.  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" he snapped as he turned around to face the blonde boy. "Come to make fun of Ron and me again?"  
Malfoy grinned.  
"No, I'm afraid I'm not here to see you, Potter. Perhaps we can talk some other time – with your boyfriend, of course. I'm here to speak to..." His voice trailed off as he searched for a word. "To...Granger." he spit out finally with a lot of effort. Harry could tell he was trying really hard not to anger Hermione.  
"No, I'm afraid she doesn't want to speak to you –"  
But, Hermione put a hand on Harry's shoulder, seeing that she'd have to talk to Malfoy some time or another, reassured him that she'd be all right.  
"I'll be right back, Harry." she said as she got up, giving Malfoy a cold stare as she followed him to the landing of the marble staircase. Once Malfoy stopped, she turned to him and frowned. "Look," she started heatedly. "I don't want to talk to you any more than you want to talk to me, but let's get this over with as quick as possible."  
Malfoy looked a little surprised, but went on as though it were nothing.  
"Same here, Granger. Look, I don't really want to do this stupid project – and I'm sure you don't either. My plan is to get it done without..." His voice trailed off once again and Hermione looked at him expectantly with her arms crossed. "Without upsetting you."  
Hermione chuckled.  
"Why so considerate to me now, Malfoy?"  
Malfoy frowned and looked to either side of him, as though making sure nobody was listening or watching.  
"Look, Granger, quit giving me a hard time, okay?"  
This got Hermione. Never before in her entire time at Hogwarts had she seen Malfoy actually serious about something without snickering or making wisecracks about her or her friends.  
"I will if you will."  
Malfoy nodded.  
"So..." he started. "When're we going to do this project thing?"  
Hermione, glad that some of the tension between them was gone, started. "I've already looked at the list and didn't know which plant you wanted to do, so decided to wait. We could go down to Hagrid's tomorrow after class and talk to him about researching one of his plants."  
Malfoy nodded and avoided her eyes.  
"Is that all?" Hermione asked as she tapped her foot.  
Malfoy nodded and she started back into the Great Hall. But, he caught her by the arm before she entered.  
"Look, Granger – could you call me Draco or something outside of class?" Hermione gave him a confused glance. "I hate being called Malfoy all the time."  
After a minute of thinking, she nodded.  
"You can call me Hermione outside of class too, by the way." she replied as she started back into the Great Hall, feeling a little better about working with Malfoy on a project.  
  
That night, Hermione couldn't sleep. She kept thinking about her project. That talk with Malfoy had been very unexpected. If anything, she thought it would have been her confronting Malfoy, not the other way around.  
That was possibly the most awkward experience I've ever had... she thought to herself. With Malfoy.  
Why had he been so nice to her? For once, he hadn't called her Mudblood and made fun of her appearance. Maybe it's because he wasn't around his Slytherin friends, she concluded as she turned over in her four- poster.  
After a few attempts at getting comfortable, she groaned in disgust. She had her favorite classes the next day, and she didn't want to be dozing off in any of them. Especially Hagrid's, with that Erkling in her presence.  
Looking at her watch, she read the time: 12:47. Well, that's it, she thought finally. If I can't get to bed now, I'll never after 1:00.  
She pushed the covers off her legs and got up, leaving her dorm room and descended the spiral staircase.  
She expected the Common Room to be empty and gave a start as she spotted someone sitting in one of the big armchairs facing the roaring fire. The person looked up, and Hermione saw with relief that it was Harry.  
"Harry," she started with a slight laugh in her voice as she crossed the room towards his chair. "You scared me."  
Harry smiled.  
"You can't sleep either?" he asked as Hermione sat beside him, Harry wrapping his arms around her as she shivered.  
"No," she said softly as Harry gave her a light kiss on the cheek. "I keep thinking about..." Her voice trailed off. Harry looked at her expectantly.  
"What?" he asked innocently.  
Hermione shook her head with a smile, as she looked him in the eyes. "It's nothing."  
Harry smiled.  
"All right, then," he said as he took her hands in his and gave her a concerned glance. "Your hands are cold," he said as he enveloped them in his palms.  
"I'm a bit cold," she said as she rested her head against his. She breathed in the scent of him and smiled. Harry noticed and grinned.  
"What's the matter?" he asked as he looked in Hermione's eyes.  
"You smell good." she replied as he chuckled, taking in the compliment. She felt his lips brush against her cheek, then he took her hands and brought them up to his lips and kissed them, holding them there for a minute before returning them to her lap. "You know," she started after a while of listening to the crackling of the fire. "This was our first date."  
Harry guffawed.  
"You consider this a date?"  
"What?" Hermione replied playfully with a laugh.  
"Come on," he went on. "I can do better than this."  
"No." Hermione said, pulling his arms tighter around her.  
"No what?"  
Her eyes flickered open to catch his.  
"You don't have to do better than this." she said with a smile. "This is perfect."  
Slowly, their lips met, connecting softly. It was a while before they parted to look at each other.  
Then, in each other's arms, they drifted off to sleep, not caring that the others would see them when morning finally came. 


	7. Interruption

Chapter Seven:  
Interruption  
  
"Mr. Weasley," Snape said with a loathsome expression on his face. "If you want to talk now, by all means – go right ahead."  
Ron was attempting to keep his comments to himself. The last thing he needed was to get a Howler from his mother and become even more embarrassed than he already was.  
Snape stood at the front of the dungeon, smiling smugly. Ron had a deep feeling of dread in his stomach as he slowly walked down the aisles of desks towards him. Snape had his want in hand and whipped it out to his left, pointing it at an empty cauldron. Ron watched as Snape muttered a spell and the cauldron began filling with foamy water.  
After a while, the cauldron filled to the top and the foam fizzed over the top, spilling onto the grimy tiled floor. Snape gave Ron a mocking smile.  
"Ready to get dirty, Weasley?" he asked as Ron stood, dumbfounded. Where was the mop?  
"But..."  
"What's the matter? Get started!"  
Ron had to stop himself from stuttering.  
"But – Professor! What am I going to use to mop the floor?"  
Snape chuckled.  
"Mop? Oh no – you won't be mopping, Weasley." He tapped his want on the rim of the cauldron and a giant scrubber plopped into the murky water. Some of the water splashed up at Ron, getting his shirt wet and slippery with soap suds.  
"Professor – you can't be serious?"  
Snape grinned.  
"Oh, I never kid. Get on your knees and start scrubbing."  
Ron groaned as he rolled up his sleeves, dipping his hands into the warm, disgusting water, feeling for the scrubber.  
Well, he thought to himself. At least I can have some time to sort out my thoughts. And he had a lot of thoughts. Interesting thoughts he had been pondering ever since Hermione started going out with Harry.  
How could he do that to me? He thought grudgingly to himself. He and Harry had been friends for a while. In a way, Ron felt betrayed.  
No, he thought finally, shaking the thoughts from his mind.  
Perhaps thinking time really wasn't what he needed right then. On his hands and knees, he began scrubbing the grimy, potion-encrusted floor.  
Snape sat at his desk and grinned.  
"You know," he started arrogantly. "I've heard some pretty...interesting rumors about you, Weasley."  
Ron said nothing, determined not to react to Snape's talking. There was a moment of silence as though Snape were waiting for Ron to say something. But, Ron didn't, so he went on as though determined to get a reaction.  
"You know, rumors about Quidditch?"  
Still, Ron didn't say anything. Though he knew rumors about he and Harry were lingering because of Malfoy, he tried once again to bottle his anger. Besides, he and Harry were no strangers to rumors. Snape was answered by the scratching sounds the scrubber made against the rough floor.  
"It's okay, Weasley," Snape continued. "We all have out deep, dark secrets."  
"Do we?" Ron snapped as he looked up.  
Snape grinned.  
"I know what you think I don't." he replied.  
"Is that so?" Ron asked as he looked up and stopped scrubbing.  
"Come on – Weasley!" Snape said as though he was exposing a secret that Ron didn't already know. "I'm not stupid."  
"Neither am I." Ron replied flatly as he continued scrubbing the floor, moving to a new section of floor that wasn't clean.  
Snape was getting irritated now, not getting anything from Ron. He got up from his desk and walked over to Ron, crouching beside him. Ron looked up to catch Snape's cool stare.  
"I see it in your eyes."  
Ron held his eyes there for a minute, then looked away.  
"I don't know what you're insinuating, but I can assure you that none of it is true." he replied as he continued cleaning.  
"You know, Weasley," Snape started in a hungry tone. "You don't have to scrub all the floor."  
Ron looked down at his scrubber in silence. Was this some cruel joke Snape was playing on him? Was he just toying with him?  
"Really, Weasley," he went on. "I kid you not. Just tell me one thing. One answer, that's all I ask. Then you can go on back to your dormitory."  
Ron hesitated, then gave Snape his full attention.  
"Alright. What do you want to know?"  
Snape grinned wickedly.  
  
Harry awoke slowly, first noticing a bright light, then attempting to blink it away. His nose ached because he had forgotten to remove his glasses, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He soon forgot the tiny prick when he noticed whom he was sitting with. He smiled as the events of the previous night came back to him in a wave.  
Hermione was still asleep, her chest slowly rising and falling with a steady rhythm. She looked so peaceful and that made Harry happy. It had been rare to actually see Hermione happy after their last year at Hogwarts. She'd gone through a lot of stress after they left the school. Harry hadn't seen it with his own eyes until 3/4ths of the summer was over, but even when he had seen it, he still couldn't believe it.  
When he had arrived at the Burrow, the Weasley's house after the first half of the summer, he had assumed everything was fine. But in reality, everything was not fine. Slowly, every few days, a new owl would come from Hermione and each seemed more and more desperate.  
From what he had read, Hermione's father had become worried about what had gone on at the end of their fifth year. Hermione had arrived at the Burrow teary-eyed, saying she might not be able to come back to Hogwarts because of what had happened. Her father was fighting to keep her home at a Muggle boarding school.  
Thankfully, her father had been lenient after three letters each from Ron as well as Harry and allowed her to come back to Hogwarts. She'd have to return home for the holidays.  
But, Harry didn't mind. At least she was with him for most of the year.  
Hermione was very warm and Harry caught himself running his fingers up and down her arm, feeling the smooth warmth of her skin. He stopped when Hermione stirred.  
Her eyes squeezed shut tightly before blinking open and she smiled when she saw Harry.  
"Hey," she said softly as she stretched her arms.  
"Hey, sleepy head." Harry said back, taking a glance at his watch. It was pretty early to be up because there were only a few people seated at the tables in a corner of the Common Room.  
"What time is it?" she asked as Harry kissed her forehead.  
"About an hour before breakfast," he replied, his lips brushing against her forehead as he talked.  
After a few minutes of listening to the popping of the embers in the fire, Hermione started as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.  
"Should we get ready?"  
Harry pondered this, then nodded.  
"Yeah, but not for breakfast. Why don't we go for a walk or something? It's pretty nice to go out before classes start. You know – get some fresh air and whatnot."  
Hermione smiled.  
"I'd like a walk." she replied as she got up, straightening her nightgown. Harry watched as she brushed her hair out of her face and started off towards the spiral staircase.  
Smiling to himself, he got up and stretched, regaining the feeling in his arms and legs after sitting on the couch the whole night. He had to get dressed and thought it would be pertinent to be ready before Hermione, so started up the stairs.  
As he swung his door open, he stopped. It was still quiet and he hoped he hadn't awoken anyone.  
Looking around the room, he noticed that everyone except for Ron had awoken their beds terribly messy and pajamas on the floor. He crossed the room to his bed, pulling off his shirt and folding it in his hands, placing it on the scarlet comforter for the House Elves to collect.  
He looked over at the bed where Ron lay and smiled. Ron looked peaceful and calm, something Harry rarely saw during the day with all the taunting he endured. Ron's right arm hung off the bed and he lay on his back, snoring very slightly. His red hair was a mess, but it usually was.  
Harry pulled his robes out of his wardrobe and started to get dressed. He pulled off his pants and put on the black Hogwarts School uniform, fixing the vest so it was center on his chest. He didn't bother to fix his tie just yet. He hung it on his neck and sat on the bed, pulling his shoes out from beneath it.  
As he quickly slipped them on, Ron turned on his bed and gave a deep sigh, falling deeper into sleep.  
Harry wondered how bad his detention had been the night before.  
I hope it wasn't too bad, he thought to himself as he continued tying his laces and then got up, fixing himself one last time before leaving the room and descending the spiral staircase.  
To his surprise, Hermione was already downstairs, standing by the portrait hole waiting for him. She wore her uniform with a ribbon in her hair pulling it back. Harry liked it. It set her face off, making it the focal point of her figure.  
Hermione smiled when she turned to see him approaching and reached out her hand, Harry taking it as they laced their fingers, stepping through the portrait hole.  
"So," Harry started as he looked over at Hermione as they walked.  
"So...what?" Hermione asked back, with a slight giggle.  
Harry smiled. "Did you – I mean...did you sleep well last night?"  
Hermione gave a mock look of thoughtfulness.  
"Well, now that you mention it," she started, holding up a finger. "I did sleep well. I haven't had a good night's sleep in almost a week."  
Harry wondered if he had made her feel more secure. He knew she made him feel secure and safe when around. He didn't like to admit it, but in a way he needed Hermione, and he was sure she needed him just as much. She gave his hand a squeeze and he returned it.  
They descended the marble staircase to the entrance hall of the school, passing by Nearly Headless Nick, one of the Gryffindor ghosts, who tipped his head to them. This usually turned Hermione's stomach, but today it didn't seem to phase her.  
They exited the large entrance doors and down the stone steps to the grounds. A heavy mist lingered over the well-kept lawns that swept the castle grounds. The mist hit Harry's face and he liked the cool compared to the heat and mugginess of the Common Room.  
"So," Hermione started after they had walked a little ways away from the school towards the Quidditch Pitch. "Where are we headed?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Beats me –"he started playfully, receiving a shove from Hermione which made him laugh. "Hey! I know where we're going."  
"Where then?" asked Hermione curiously.  
"Well, it was going to be a secret, but I know this spot where you can see the mountains –"  
"Mountains?" Hermione exclaimed excitedly, surprising Harry. "Oh, Harry! I love the mountains! I remember going on vacation and wishing I could climb them." Harry nodded. "From my house, I can see the mountains off on the horizon. I wake up to them every morning during the summer."  
Harry led her off the path towards the Quidditch Pitch where a circle of large stands was erected, allowing the students of Hogwarts School to view the game of Quidditch played on broomsticks. Harry had seen the mountains countless times while flying during practice and never thought he'd be bringing Hermione to the stands to look at them.  
"So, where can we see them?" Hermione asked.  
Harry looked over at her and smiled.  
"From the Quidditch stands. You know that really tall tower where Lee Jordan always announces the game from?" Hermione nodded. "Well, really – students aren't allowed up there. But, since I'm on a team, I have the privilege."  
Hermione moved closer to him as they walked, giving his hand a squeeze as they neared the pitch.  
They were just a few feet away when they heard someone call Hermione's name.  
"Granger! Granger!"  
Hermione turned to spot someone running towards them.  
"Who's that?" Harry asked, squinting to make out who it was.  
Hermione caught a glimpse of blonde as the figure got closer and she groaned, rolling her eyes.  
"Malfoy." she said in an annoyed tone filled with hatred.  
Malfoy finally caught up to them, getting a glare from Harry while he caught his breath. His hair was messy once again and he was wearing his Slytheirn uniform untidily, his vest riding up his chest from running and his tie undone.  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked as she felt Harry give her hand a squeeze of comfort.  
Between huffs and puffs, Malfoy started to spit out sentences. "Holy cow, Granger...what a Hell of a time I've had tracking you down...probably asked a million people in the Great Hall!"  
Hermione tapped her foot on the grass impatiently.  
"Look – if this is about the project –"  
Malfoy nodded and cut in.  
"Yeah – it is. Trust me. Why would I talk to you about anything else in public?"  
This made Harry mad and he took a step forward, but Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.  
"Harry, let it go."  
"Look, sorry to get your boyfriend all out of whack, but we really need to get this done."  
"It was just assigned yesterday, Malfoy." Harry said in protest. "Give her a break. You have three weeks to do this!"  
"Well..." Malfoy said, as though contemplating what he was going to use as an excuse. "No sense in procrastinating, Potter. I know you and Finnigan no doubt will. Well, I won't this time. I need this grade and why in the world am I actually talking to you?"  
This caught Harry and he shook his head, not knowing the answer either.  
"Well, anyway. I need to talk to Granger – in private, if you don't mind. It's not like I'm stealing her from you."  
Harry frowned, looking at Hermione. "But, what about our..."  
"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione said as she took a few steps towards Malfoy, turning to face Harry. "We'll do it some other time. We only have about ten minutes before breakfast anyway." And after having said that, she gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek and started off with Malfoy, following him around the Quidditch Pitch.  
  
I can't believe I just had a conversation with Potter! Draco said as he led Hermione away from the path around the large fabric-covered Quidditch stands so that they wouldn't be overheard. He didn't even want to imagine what would happen if he were seen by anybody in his own house while talking to Granger the Mudblood.  
Hermione followed behind him reluctantly until he was finally satisfied with their locale and stopped to face her.  
"Look, Granger. We're agreed that we want to spend as little time on this project as possible, right?"  
Hermione nodded. "As long as it's good quality." she added, and Malfoy nodded.  
Malfoy brought his hand up to his neck and massaged it, hoping he didn't look too nervous.  
But I am nervous! He thought angrily to himself. Why was he so on edge talking to Hermione? She wasn't any big deal, anyway. He felt his knees shaking slightly, and he hoped it wasn't obvious.  
"Well, the reason I wanted to talk to you was – I wanted to know what we were doing. You know – research dates and all that."  
Hermione looked a little puzzled before replying, "Since when have you been so interested in research? I've hardly ever seen you in the Library unless someone forced you in there or you had someone to taunt."  
Malfoy was a little taken back by this statement and a little hurt, but he brushed that away quickly. Why am I so stupid? He asked himself. Did it matter if Granger thought he was mean and had poor study habits?  
No, he concluded and listened on, trying to look like his normal tough self.  
"Anyway," she went on. "I was thinking that maybe we could go talk to Hagrid after his class and see if he'd let us take a look in his garden."  
Malfoy scowled. He couldn't help it. Hagrid was like a bad day for him. He was pushover nice as well.  
Hermione caught his scowl and frowned. "Why do you hate Hagrid so much?" she asked, a look of curiosity worked into her brown eyes now.  
Malfoy started talking on instinct, not thinking about what he was saying, regretting it afterwards. "How can you possibly expect me to like that great big idiot? All he does is pull our society down with his stupidity."  
Hermione looked hurt this time.  
"Look..." Malfoy said, hoping he could mend things a little so they could still do their project without hostility. "I'm sorry. I have this thing – it's kind of like a curse, really. I just spit out what I think without actually...thinking."  
This did nothing to sway Hermione's reaction.  
"Well, that's no excuse to go badmouthing my friends!" Malfoy could see that there were tears brewing in her eyes, and for once he actually felt sorry. Whether he showed it or not, he'd never know because Hermione turned on her heel and started walking back around the pitch.  
"No – Granger, wait!"  
"Leave me alone, Malfoy." she said over her shoulder.  
"No! Give me a second –"  
He grabbed her arm and she twisted around and slapped him. This caught him by surprise and he stepped back, his hand to his cheek.  
Hermione glared at him, breathing heavily with anger.  
"Listen, you foul excuse for a member of the wizarding community! I have had it up to here with you for the past five years! Why can't you get along with other people?" She gave an irritated groan. "I think you're nothing but a little snot who can't feel good about himself, so you pick on other people to get satisfaction in your own life."  
Malfoy felt a little hurt at this, but he knew it was somewhat true.  
"Is that what you really think of me, Granger?" he asked, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to pour over his pale cheeks due to the sting where she had slapped him.  
Hermione looked down, as though thinking this over. Then, after a while, replied, "Yes, Malfoy. That's what I really think."  
And with that, she turned on her heel and stomped off around the pitch where Harry was waiting for her. Malfoy watched as he took her hand and comforted her with conversation as they made their way back up to the school. He just stood there watching them until finally they disappeared into the mist.  
Now alone, he leaned against one of the posts of the Quidditch stands and started to sob.  
Well, you stupid git, he thought angrily to himself. You blew it again. Nice job.  
Why did he always do that? He always did that.  
You'll never get Granger to work on that project with you now.  
He wouldn't be surprised if she expected him to do it all by himself and hand it in with both their names on it. But, he didn't want to do that. Who would?  
He felt so bad about what he'd done that he kept running solutions to the problem through his head. All the what ifs and maybes swirling around in his mind as he tried to figure out a way he could mend what he had broken between he and Hermione.  
"Maybe I should just give up," he said finally, his breath fanning out in front of him. "Maybe I'll never be able to have friends besides the ones my father pays off."  
He slid to the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest as he sobbed.  
It's hopeless, he thought to himself as he cried.  
Completely hopeless. 


	8. Care of Magical Creatures

Chapter Eight:  
Care of Magical Creatures  
  
Ron looked up to see Harry and Hermione walking into the Great Hall; Hermione looking very upset while Harry attempted to console her. Her cheeks were wet with tears and her face was red with emotion.  
_What's happened now? _He thought grumpily to himself as he moved his eggs around on his plate.  
"Hermione – it's fine. I really don't care." Harry said, as they got closer to the table.  
Hermione, emotional, shook her head.  
"He's always done this!" she sobbed. "Why can't he just – get along?"  
Ron didn't even have to ask to know who had upset her so much.  
"Malfoy again?" he stated more than asked as he looked up at Harry.  
Harry nodded with an annoyed expression on his face. He mimed a hangman's noose while Hermione wasn't watching and Ron grinned.  
Ron hadn't smiled in a while, and it was nice to feel something besides hurt and guilt for a change. Leave it to Harry...  
Hermione seemed to have calmed down somewhat and dried her eyes with a napkin. She continued to talk to herself.  
"But – you know, I'm not going to let it get to me."  
Harry looked relieved.  
"Good," Ron said as he raised his eyebrows for a second before taking another bite of his bacon.  
"Not today." She began piling heaps of pancakes onto her plate and Harry watched in shock as she covered them with half a container of syrup. After completely drenching them in the thick syrup, she cut out a section of the stack and stuffed it in her mouth.  
After chewing it for a moment, she looked up to see both Ron and Harry giving her disbelieving stares.  
"W'ot?" she asked with her mouthful.  
Ron looked to Harry for something to say, so Hermione directed her attention to him.  
Harry, in the spotlight, shrugged. But Hermione gave him a look as if trying to coax him into saying something.  
"Nothing – it's nothing, Hermione."  
"Good," she went on, stuffing another fork of pancakes into her mouth, chewing it hungrily. "I'm glab it's nubbing."  
Harry looked up to see Ron attempting to stifle a laugh and it rubbed off on him. Hermione, oblivious, continued stuffing her face.  
"Harry!" someone down the table said and Harry leaned back to see that it was Ron's sister, Ginny Weasley, five seats down.  
"Hey, Ginny," he said as Ginny got up and walked over to him. She had her shoulder-length red hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore her school uniform neatly.  
"Harry, I just wanted to let you know that there's going to be Quidditch practice tonight at 6:00."  
This caught Harry by surprise. He hadn't been expecting practice until later in the week!  
"When did they decided this?" he asked as he glanced across the table at Ron who looked just as dumbfounded.  
Ginny shrugged.  
"I only just found out this morning. Angelina told me to tell you that you have to be there. Honestly – she's so bossy! I wish someone'd put her in her place."  
_You and me both_, Harry thought glumly to himself. He enjoyed Quidditch, but after all he'd been through the previous year, he'd thought Angelina would give him a break. But, she didn't. She never did.  
"Well, anyways," Ginny went on, shaking Harry from his thoughts. "I guess I'll see you then." She looked across the table at Ron and added, "You too, Ron."  
"What?" Ron exclaimed, exasperated.  
"Yes, Ron, we need you for this game against Slytherin on Sunday. That leaves us only three days to prepare. Be there or I'll be down your throat."  
And with that, she calmly walked off.  
Harry returned his gaze to his food. Thinking about the events of the previous year made him wonder what was going on now. The Daily Prophet wasn't posting anything involving Voldemort to keep the panic down, and Harry had rarely seen Dumbledore.  
Hagrid says things are in our favor, he told himself as he took another bite of his bacon. But that's just for the moment.  
It was true that Harry was as safe as he could be at Hogwarts, but now the dread that something may happen returned to him. Hermione had only distracted him so long. The same with the summer. The Burrow could only hold his attention for so many days before his thoughts would slip back to Voldemort and what he was planning next.  
_No, stop it_, he thought to himself. _You're safe now as long as Dumbledore's around so quit worrying_.  
He'd already pestered Ron and Hermione after their last Quidditch match, worried that something would happen. But they both told him not to worry. So, he wouldn't.  
  
It was still misty out when the three of them made their way down to Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures. The mist made Harry's glasses fog up, so he had Hermione do a de-fog charm on them before class began.  
Hagrid stepped out of his hut carrying what Harry recognized as the Erkling cage covered by a cage cover so the creature inside the cage wasn't exposed. Not yet, at least.  
"Well, g'morning class," Hagrid started. The Gryffindors all replied with their own versions of 'good-morning' while the Slytherins all sneered.  
But there was one Slytherin who Harry noticed wasn't sneering. Malfoy stood off to the side away from the others, arms crossed and a glum look on his face.  
Well, it's about time he's the one feeling down, Harry thought as he listened to Hagrid go on.  
"T'day we're goin' teh be observin' a neat little creature I call the Erkling." he went on as the class listened intently. Harry knew the Erkling wasn't anything too exciting, so he went back to his own thoughts.  
"Now, the Erkling," Hagrid went on happily. "Is branded four stars in Fantastic Beasts, in case yeh didn' know." Hermione smiled, glad he remembered. "This means tha' I can' let you handle the little guy, but yeh can watch me do it instead."  
The cage in his hands gave an involuntary jolt as the Erkling within it rammed itself against the cage bars, causing Hagrid to grip it tighter with more effort. Finally, he removed the cloth and revealed the Erkling to the class.  
Everyone (except Harry, Ron and Hermione) gasped as the Erkling hissed, opening its jaws wide to reveal the rows of razor-sharp teeth within its mouth. It began to gnaw at the cage but was too inferior to realize it had no effect on the steel.  
"Now," Hagrid continued, walking around the semi-circle of students so that each one could get a better look. "One thing yeh have teh know 'bout the Erkling is tha' it lures people, more specifically – children, out into the woods wi' it's high-pitched screech."  
Lavender Brown smiled at the Erkling, making a face a mother would make to an infant.  
"But, it's so cute!" she said as the Erkling gave a loud belch.  
"Cute all right," Ron muttered under his breath. "The teeth are the most adorable part."  
Harry chuckled as Hagrid moved on around the class.  
"Now – can anyone tell me –"  
Parvati Patil raised her hand tentatively, a first in Harry's opinion.  
"Yes, Parvati?" Hagrid said as he turned to look at her, Lavender still admiring the chubby build of the Erkling.  
"If I might ask," Parvati started slowly. "Why does the Erkling...lure children out into the woods?"  
Hagrid stuttered for a moment.  
"Well, the...ah...teh eat them, o'course."  
Lavender gave a cry as she stepped back in horror.  
"Eat them?" she cried. "That poor, helpless thing? It hasn't...eaten anyone, has it?"  
"Well no," Hagrid started, but was cut off by Parvati who was just as disgusted.  
"What else can you expect from our Hogwarts Care of Magical Creatures Professor? He only gets the ugliest, foulest, grossest creatures on the face of the Earth."  
Somewhere inside the crowd of students, someone muttered, "I liked Grubbly-Plank." This made Harry scowl.  
"Now – calm down –"Hagrid attempted, but what he hadn't noticed was that as the Erkling continued to gnaw the cage, its teeth went higher and higher until they finally sunk into the hand holding it.  
Hagrid let out a yelp as he dropped the cage. It hit the ground with a smash and came apart, the Erkling leaping free of it as the class went crazy running in every direction.  
Harry watched as the tiny creature looked from side to side amidst the chaos and spotted Hermione standing feet from him. It snorted and leaped into the air, landing on Hermione's chest as it clung to her robes.  
Hermione – now terrified – let out a cry and reached for her wand, but dropped it as the Erkling scampered onto her head and started screeching.  
Harry reached quickly into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around his own wand, pulling it out as he tried to remember the spell to stun a creature.  
Looking up, it appeared Malfoy had the same idea.  
  
_Think_! Draco thought frantically as he racked his brain for the stun spell. Potter was watching him, meaning he didn't know it either.  
Looking up, he spotted Hagrid attempting to stop the bleeding in his fingers. What help was he? He didn't even have a wand of his own.  
Finally, Draco decided to take matters into his own hands and lunged at the creature atop Hermione's head, tackling it to the ground where it squirmed and wriggled beneath Draco's weight.  
Hermione stood off to the side where Harry soon rushed up to her, checking to make sure she was okay.  
Finally, Hagrid took the struggling Erkling from Draco and took it into his hut where he locked it back in his trunk, grabbing a cloth to wrap around his sliced fingers before returning to his class.  
"Well," he said with a chuckle. "As yeh can see – Erklings are loads of fun."  
Parvati 'humphed' as she looked over at the ruffled Hermione.  
Draco got to his feet, surprisingly with the help of Harry, and brushed himself off, thanking Harry – surprising himself!  
Hermione caught his eye as Harry went back to comforting her. She looked shocked, as though she'd seen a ghost. Draco looked away as he returned to his Slytherin friends, Goyle giving him a high five and Crabbe slapping him on the back.  
Hagrid continued to chuckle.  
"Well, tha's all the tine we've go' for today. So – uh – take the res' of the block off." 


	9. Practice

Chapter Nine:  
Practice  
  
Harry pulled on his Quidditch uniform and quickly slipped on his leather gloves. He'd already be late – ten minutes to be exact, and he had a feeling Angelina would be livid. He was alone in the dim locker room and he rushed to get ready, grabbing his Firebolt before quickly rushing out towards the Pitch.  
It was chillier than it had been that morning. He liked it cool, but not as cold as this. He felt his teeth chatter a bit as he walked onto the Pitch, slipping on the wet grass.  
"Harry! Where in the world have you been?" came Angelina's voice as she swooped out of the air and landed with a tap on the grass in front of Harry.  
Harry made a grimace as he took on Angelina's ranting. He'd become quite used to it and didn't really pay attention as she babbled on.  
Ginny and Ron landed behind Angelina, looking a little sorry for Harry.  
But, Harry wasn't in the mood to be pushed around.  
"Look, Angelina –"he interrupted her. "Sorry I was ten minutes late. I could be twenty next time, but then I'd miss a half hour of practice listening to your mouth."  
Angelina looked a little taken down as Harry straddled his Firebolt.  
"Now – are we going to practice, or are you going to waste another ten minutes of practice with lectures?"  
Angelina didn't have a chance to reply because Harry kicked off the ground and shot up towards the clouds, glad he got that off his chest. He loved being in the air. It was nice to feel as though he'd left the world behind.  
"That was great, Harry," a voice called out, and Harry looked over to see Ginny flying beside him.  
He smiled as he watched Ginny soar low to the ground, her hair flying out behind her.  
After a few laps around the Pitch, the team assembled at the center, landing in a circle around Angelina who had the chest of Quidditch balls in the center.  
"Alright," she started, giving Harry a stern glance. "Now that we're all here, we can start."  
She picked up a Quaffle and passed it to Alicia. Alicia grinned as the Chasers rose into the air and started passing the leather playing-ball around.  
Harry reached into the chest and pulled out the tiny golden Snitch, the most important ball in the game. It was roughly the size of a walnut and it's feathery wings fanned out and started fluttering very rapidly.  
Harry watched as it shot up out of his hand and zoomed off into the air. That was the ball Harry had to catch. If he caught it, he would earn his team 150 points and hopefully help them to win the game.  
After waiting a few minutes, Harry kicked off the ground and shot into the air, hoping he could find the Snitch.  
It didn't take long. He spotted a glint of gold shoot past Alicia. He leaned forward on his broom and zoomed downwards after the tiny Snitch.  
He was always amazed at how fast the tiny Snitch was. But, his Firebolt proved to be just as fast and he was soon trailing right behind it.  
The Snitch darted back and forth as if in an attempt to escape capture, but Harry lunged out and caught the smooth, cold ball in his hand, holding it up as he did a lap around the Pitch.  
It wasn't long before practice was over and the team met at the center of the Pitch for some last notes before the game that Sunday.  
"Now, first off," Angelina started. "I want to say I think you're all doing very well for a second-year team. Now, no pressure for Sunday now."  
Harry glanced over at Ron who looked paler than normal. He felt a bit nervous himself.  
"Now, I have a surprise for all of you," she went on. What's the surprise? Harry thought to himself. An extra practice? "We'll have a guest in our stands on Sunday, someone you all should know."  
Someone I should know? Harry thought nervously as Ron glanced over at him.  
"I'm pleased to say," Angelina went on with a grin. "That I can't tell you who it is. It would spoil the surprise." She smiled as Harry sighed.  
"Is it someone nice?" he asked glumly, hoping it wasn't Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. In Harry's opinion, the man was a scumbag.  
"Oh," Angelina started, thinking. "Yes. Very nice. Someone you should know well, Harry."  
Harry racked his brain for any person he could possibly know who'd come to see them play Quidditch, but he couldn't come up with anyone. His teammates looked just as clueless.  
"Well," Angelina said with a hint of finality in her voice. "I guess I'll see you all on Sunday."  
And with that, she picked up the chest of balls and started back towards the school. Harry found himself very frustrated; wanting very badly to know who it was they would be seeing on Sunday.  
"Ron – do you know who it is?"  
Ron shrugged as they made their way back up to the locker rooms.  
"You know –"Harry started as he pulled off the heavy silk cloak. "I'm not liking all this secrecy between Angelina and everyone else on the team."  
"Of course, if by everyone else you mean Alicia, Katie, and Ginny."  
"We're always excluded from stuff," Harry went on. "You know, I don't think Ginny's a part of the tiny group, Ron."  
Ron shrugged.  
"You never know with her. And her new boyfriend." He cringed.  
"Who's she going out with now?"  
"Some fifth year," Ron said glumly. "I really don't like him, you know."  
Harry grinned as he finished getting dressed. "What happened to Dean?"  
Ron shook his head.  
"I don't know, but I think I liked him better than the bloke she's got now."  
"You know, I think you're a bit too protective," he replied as he tied his shoes, watching Ron stop with his shirt half on.  
"Huh?" he shot back.  
"Ron, I said a bit."  
Ron smiled as he shrugged into the rest of his shirt.  
"Better to be too protective than too lenient."  
They both shared a laugh as they started back up to the dormitory. They still had Potions homework to complete, and they usually did it as a group to lighten the load.  
After getting comfortably into their dorm room, they pulled out their Potions parchment and started to work. Both seated on the floor, they spread out their notes so they could write their essays on why a hair- growing potion would benefit society.  
Ron constantly had the tip of his quill in his mouth as he pondered what to write. He was never any good at writing.  
"This is a load of dung," he said finally, running his fingers through his hair.  
Harry smiled as he too sat back, stretching.  
"It's like he lives to make our lives miserable!" he said as Ron nodded. He took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose where the metal had started to irritate it.  
Ron glanced up, noticing how tired Harry looked. He smiled; glad he wasn't the only one tired.  
"You going to fall asleep on me?" he asked as Harry chuckled.  
"No – I think I can stay awake a few more hours. Geeze, I need to get this done..."  
Ron didn't like this assignment; two sheaves of parchment on hair- growth potions. How boring and how hard! There was practically nothing for information on hair growth potions in their oversized textbooks, so they had to rattle their brains to come up with convincing reasons why they were useful.  
"Hey – Harry," Ron said after a few minutes of silence. "Does this sound good to you?"  
He moved over next to Harry and handed his parchment to Harry. Harry glanced quickly at Ron, then scanned the parchment covered in Ron's messy scrawl. It was pretty good, in his opinion.  
Ron looked at him expectantly.  
"...It's pretty good," he started as Ron smiled.  
"I just hope Snape thinks the same."  
They both shared a laugh as Harry passed Ron his parchment. Ron gave him a confused glance.  
"Go on," Harry pressed with a grin. "I read yours."  
Ron shrugged.  
"You trust my opinion?"  
"Ron, come on. Who else will I trust?"  
"Well..."  
Ron started reading the paper, impressed by how professional it sounded. He almost envied Harry's style. He liked Harry's penmanship, very neat and precise, unlike his own messy handwriting.  
"Ron?"  
Ron looked up. He'd been silent for a while.  
"Oh – yeah, Harry. It's pretty good too." He gave a resigned smile. "Better than mine, in fact."  
Harry grinned.  
"You always say that."  
Ron shrugged.  
"Well, it's true."  
"Despite the fact that I know you're jealous," Harry started. "I'd take that as a compliment."  
Ron gave a half-hearted smile. "It was."  
"I'm glad." Harry replied as he got to his feet, starting to chance into his pajamas. "I'm so exhausted."  
Ron yawned.  
"Wha...time is it, anyway?"  
Harry looked down at his watch. "12:30"  
Ron, too, decided to get ready for bed, even though he still had a half-page left to write. He'd do it in the morning.  
Harry was already seated on his bed when Ron was buttoning up his shirt. Harry waited until Ron was in his own bed before he blew out the candles on his bedside table.  
There was a moment of silence broken only by the sounds of tossing and turning, then Harry broke it.  
"G'night, Ron."  
Ron, already tucked beneath his comforter, smiled.  
"G'night, Harry." 


	10. Grudging Kindness

Chapter Ten:  
Grudging Kindness  
  
Draco wrapped his dark cloak around him and buttoned it around his neck quickly, grabbing his gloves off his wardrobe before leaving his dorm room, parchment and quill in his robes pocket. His hair was a little messier than normal, but who cared? Nobody would notice. He wasn't going to talk to anyone long enough for them to notice anyway.  
He was on a mission. At least, it felt like a mission to him. Indeed, it was nothing he would normally do. _Geeze, no_, he thought to himself as he descended the spiral staircase to the Slytherin common room. He was glad there wasn't anyone important around, because if he were spotted doing what he was, he didn't think he knew a good-enough excuse to pass it off as nothing.  
Cautiously, he slipped through the portrait hole out into the back corridor of the west wing of Hogwarts. He was glad it was getting late. That meant less chances of him being confronted by someone. He had slipped out of dinner in the Great Hall by passing off the excuse that he didn't feel well.  
It wasn't a lie, of course. He never lied to his classmates from Slytherin. He didn't feel well. He felt horrible, in fact. What he had said to Hermione that morning along with her being attacked by the Erkling had sent a guilty feeling into the pit of his stomach. He would have never been able to keep any of the meal courses down.  
He made his way quickly down the marble staircase and into the Entrance Hall. The doors to the Great Hall were open and he could hear the loud sounds of conversation accompanied by the tinkling of silverware and glasses. It was bright inside and he felt a little leery going out into the dusk, but it was something he told himself he had to do.  
Silently, without anyone noticing, he slipped out of the castle and headed down the stone steps towards the grounds near the Forbidden Forest.  
_What are you doing? _Part of him asked. _Doing all this for a stupid feeling in your gut? You've felt worse before!  
_He agreed with his thoughts, but this was different from all the other times.  
Slowly, he made his way down to Hagrid's hut, almost turning back out of shame more than fear or hatred. He obviously disliked the giant, but he decided he had to put it behind him.  
Slowly, almost hesitantly, he knocked on the door and jumped as he heard the loud barks of a dog, Hagrid's boarhound, as he leaped against the wooden door. Draco was glad that the door was strong.  
The sounds of Hagrid rambling on to himself were heard as he started opening the door.  
"Wha' in the world can you three –"  
He stopped as he spotted who was at his door. Indeed, it wasn't Harry, Ron and Hermione. Draco wasn't surprised when the giant man took a step back and gave him a suspicious look.  
"...Good evening, Hagrid." he said softly into the night air, almost afraid that the slight breeze had carried his voice off into the wind and Hagrid hadn't heard him.  
Hagrid gave him a hesitant glance, then replied, "Good evening, Malfoy."  
Malfoy felt a little uneasy talking to the man he had mocked for so long. He felt guilty for it all of a sudden, though he didn't know why.  
"I – uh...guess you're wondering why I'm here."  
"Well, it crossed my mind fer a second, yeah." Hagrid replied as he watched Draco shiver as the wind hit him. It was getting on to autumn and the night air was crisper. His eyes seemed to soften and he stepped aside, motioning for Draco to enter. "Well, come in if yeh like."  
Draco nodded his thanks and stepped into the hut, standing awkwardly in the middle of the one-room home while Hagrid closed his door and locked it, his dog leaping up at Draco's face, his red tongue washing his face with drool.  
Hagrid chuckled as he watched Draco try to fend off the dog and smiled. "Tha's Fang. He's my boarhound."  
Draco nodded and folded his arms across his chest uneasily.  
"So, wha' are yeh here for?" he asked finally.  
Draco sniffed and looked up, as though he was just interrupted from a deep thought. Hagrid couldn't help but notice how innocent he looked just then compared to the devious and obnoxious student he was during the day.  
"I...uh," he stuttered, as though fumbling with the words. "Look, Hagrid. I'm not going to try to sugarcoat this. So here goes. I'm sorry for being so much trouble to you in the past. I finally realized the error of my ways and am trying – believe it or not – to change my image a little."  
Hagrid looked surprised and smiled.  
"Oh really?"  
Draco nodded, keeping the solemn expression. "I've...well, not actually met someone, but gotten to know someone – recently in fact – who changed my picture of you." He looked down at the floor.  
Hagrid looked a little happier than he had when he'd answered the door.  
"Well, I certainly wasn' expectin' this." he said with a chuckle. "So, if yeh don' mind my askin', who did yeh meet?"  
Draco pondered whether or not to tell him, then slipped.  
"Granger."  
"'Ermione?" Hagrid asked, raising his bushy eyebrows.  
"Yeah. Look, that's the other reason I'm here. I, well – we were assigned to work together as a group for the Herbology project and we have to research a plant. Professor Sprout told us that you had some of the plants in your garden. I was kind of hoping, you know...if you didn't mind..."  
"You wan' me teh help yeh find a good plan'?"  
Draco nodded.  
"I kind of hurt Hermione's feelings and felt...bad about it, so I think it's only right if I do most of the research and get us started with a boost."  
Hagrid grinned.  
"Well, now's as good a time as any," he said as he led Draco out the door towards the garden that was enclosed by a picket fence. Draco smelled fresh soil and plants all over the place.  
Draco watched as Hagrid walked along the rows of plants, some more interesting than others and shook his head at each.  
"I know 'Ermione," he said after a while. "I actually selected a specific plan' for her...now where was it?"  
After a couple minutes of searching, Hagrid gave a triumphant, "Aha!" and pointed to it, Draco walking over to inspect it.  
"What in the world is it?" he asked as Hagrid grinned. He was looking down at a dark green plant with purple specks all over the stem at the end of which sprouted a giant purple flower.  
"Tha' is a Permetula Rosebud," Hagrid said matter-of-factly.  
Draco looked up at him.  
"What does it do?"  
"Well," Hagrid said, pondering the way to word his explanation. "I's really simple, actually. This partic'lar plan' has been around for decades, and mos' people back in the 17th century used it to create expensive love potions."  
Draco looked up, trying to hide his expression of disgust in the shadows of the evening.  
"_Love Potions_?"  
"Yep," Hagrid said as he walked over to a rusty bucket and extracted a trowel and started digging out the Permetula Rosebud. He plopped it into a spare pot and handed it to Draco who looked up at him.  
"This is it?" he asked as he caught a whiff of the wonderful sweet scent of the flower.  
Hagrid nodded.  
"Jus' look in yeh book for some information abou' its properties, and yeh'll be set."  
Draco nodded and started off towards the school, but stopped and turned before leaving.  
"Hagrid?" he said as Hagrid looked up, busy filling in the hole where the Rosebud had once been. "Thanks."  
Hagrid nodded.  
"Don' mention it." he said as Draco turned and headed back towards the castle, hoping that nobody spotted him walking through the school with a giant purple plant in his arms and dirt all over his nice clothing.  
  
He was lucky nobody had seen him slip into the Slytherin Common Room with the plant because if they had, he would have been in a predicament, having told them that he was sick. He supposed he could have told them the school nurse had given it to him as a throat- clearer because of the strong scent, but that sounded too far-fetched to him.  
He quickly leaped up the staircase, glad that he was back in his room when he closed the door. Crabbe and Goyle were already in their pajamas and were busy reading something. Draco, glad they hadn't questioned him, looked down at the book Crabbe was holding. It was handwritten.  
"What's this, Crabbe?" he asked as Crabbe chuckled.  
"Just some stupid journal we stole out of the bag of some Hufflepuff girl.," he said in mid-chuckle as he turned the page, Goyle pulling at his sleeve to hand it over.  
Draco rolled his eyes.  
_How juvenile_, he thought to himself as he placed the Rosebud on his bedside table and brushed the dirt off his robes. He still had to get changed and start some research for Hermione to make up for the way he had upset her that morning. He hoped his handwriting was neat enough for her. He knew for a fact that hers was fancy and flowery from the note she had given Potter...  
That stung him.  
_Potter's note! _He thought angrily to himself. Had Potter told her about the note, so that was why she was angry with him?  
He'd have to explain it later when he saw her and apologized, he decided. He felt really bad about it all. If he was going to be on the good side of Hermione for the project, he had to be on the good side of her friends as well to keep her happy.  
_Girls are so hard to please_, he concluded as he pulled out his enormous Herbology textbook and flipped to the glossary in the back. Scanning the columns of words, he spotted _Rosebud, Permetula _in the middle of the third column.  
"Good," he said to himself as he tried to block out Crabbe and Goyle's guffawing.  
He turned to the correct page and found that there wasn't one – but _five_ pages on the Rosebud.  
"Wow," he muttered softly under his breath. "Thank you, Hagrid..."  
His eyes almost ached with all the information on the page. It was amazing. He'd never really enjoyed researching before, but this was actually pretty interesting. He didn't know so much went into making a love potion, however much he despised them.  
Crabbe looked up finally and snickered.  
"What's the stupid flower for?" he sneered.  
Draco rolled his eyes.  
"It's my Herbology project.," he said importantly.  
Goyle chuckled.  
"You're paired up with Granger, aren't you?" he said as he grinned. "How's the Mudblood been?"  
Draco had to stop himself from getting mad at Goyle. He didn't know that Draco had been trying to straighten out his act. He just nodded and sighed.  
"The way she'd always been. I don't know what else to say." he replied with a roll of the eyes for effect.  
This had the desired effect on both of them and they immediately ignored the plant and went back to the journal, laughing at the particularly juicy entries and mocking the girl's sentences.  
It was late when Draco finished jotting down notes on the plant. He had two whole pieces of parchment, front and back, filled out in as neat handwriting as he could muster up at eleven at night.  
He closed the book with a yawn, glad he had gotten it done without a struggle.  
Crabbe and Goyle had fallen asleep long before. They always needed sleep. It was a necessity to them.  
Getting up off the bed, Draco placed the heavy textbook and parchment into his bag and smiled as he started to undress, folding his clothes neatly as he always did, placing them on the floor by his bed for the House Elves to collect. He slipped into his pajamas quickly, feeling a little chilled with nothing but his boxers on, and slid beneath the thick comforter on his four-poster.  
"Well, Granger," he said softly to himself as he stared up at the green canopy above his head. "I hope you like all this. I've cut you a break."  
Actually, he had enjoyed doing the work. He looked forward to seeing Hermione's face when he showed her the parchment and the plant. She'd be so surprised she might even forgive him.  
He hated the thought of having to bribe somebody for forgiveness, though.  
"Oh well," he said as he blew out the candle and was enveloped in darkness.  
What would happen the next day would happen whether he liked it or not. He'd just have to deal with it when it crossed his path.  
With a sigh, he rolled over onto his side, getting a glimpse of the start out his window before he fell fast asleep, dreaming about Hermione the entire night. 


	11. Mended Yet Broken

Chapter Eleven:  
Mended Yet Broken  
  
The next day was rainy, adding to the bad moods and unease that had settled over the students of Hogwarts.  
The Great Hall that was usually roaring with laughter and talk was unusually quiet. Students ate silently or talked in hushed tones. Instead of the bright morning sun poking through the rafters of the enchanted ceiling, rain drops fell towards the four house tables, disappearing just feet above the students' heads.  
Hermione sat by herself at the end of the Gryffindor table, pushing her breakfast around her plate as she mulled over how bad her day was going to be.  
Oh, I have a lot to be happy about, she thought bitterly to herself. After the events of the previous day, her life had been completely miserable. The Erkling didn't gouge my face. I guess that's a good thing.  
Of course, gouge was an overstatement, but she didn't pay attention to that. She had suffered a cut across her cheek where the Erkling's nails had caught her skin. She ran her fingers over it, hating it. Hating the way it felt. As if being embarrassed in front of Harry wasn't bad enough, she thought to herself, Parvati had to laugh hysterically at my face when she saw it.  
She spotted Pansy at the Slytherin table and glared at her. Why did she have to rub it in?  
Pansy noticed that Hermione was watching her and sneered as she made a scratching motion at her face. The Slytherins around her guffawed stupidly and Hermione rolled her eyes.  
"How immature." she said as she glanced down at her plate.  
"What is?" came a familiar voice from behind her and she turned to catch a kiss from Harry on the cheek.  
Not being in the mood, she brushed him away.  
"Not now – Harry."  
Harry looked a little hurt, but sat beside her just the same.  
"Sorry," he replied as he picked up his fork and put some sliced ham on his plate. "So...what's immature?"  
Hermione sighed.  
"Pansy Parkinson." she replied glumly as Pansy sneered at her again and sat down at her table.  
Harry grinned. "Even I could have told you that." he chuckled.  
This seemed to lighten Hermione's spirits a little and Harry was pleased to see a smile appear on her face. But, it lasted only so long and Hermione was back to staring down at her plate.  
Wanting to get off the subject, he looked up at the ceiling. He frowned as he watched the raindrops falling onto them, blinking as he watched them disappear a foot or so above his upturned face. He'd seen that before, though it had been snowflakes instead of raindrops.  
"Geeze, they don't give us a break, do they?" he remarked as he cut his ham and popped a piece of the juicy, warm meat into his mouth, savoring it as he chewed. "Just give me a nice day for the Quidditch match on Sunday." he finished after chewing and swallowing.  
Hermione smiled. She knew how much the Quidditch match meant to Harry. It was all he could talk about since he got back from practice the night before. She wondered if Ron was as enthusiastic. She had heard he was going to be playing as well on Sunday.  
Suddenly, as if just noticing it, she frowned. Ron hadn't appeared with Harry the way he usually did in the morning.  
"Hey, where's Ron?" she asked, hoping he hadn't come down with the depressed sickness she had picked up.  
"Oh – he's in the Library finishing that Potions paper we had to write."  
"You did it, right?"  
Harry smiled as he looked over at her.  
"Of course." he replied, taking a bite of his bacon. "Why wouldn't I?"  
Hermione shrugged as she replied, "I don't know. You just have a reputation for procrastinating. That's all."  
Harry grinned, looking into her eyes. She hated it when he did that. It felt as though he could read them, seeing what she was thinking deep down in her soul.  
"Not today." he replied happily.  
"Good." Hermione concluded as she felt her attitude sway a little. Perhaps the day wouldn't be as bad as she thought it would be.

Ron sat in the Library, surrounded by crumpled pieces of parchment, trying desperately to finish his essay on why hair-growth potions would benefit society. With a groan, he ran his fingers through his hair, gripping it in fist-fulls. He couldn't think of anything to write that he hadn't already said.  
"Oh man, Snape – give me a break." he sighed as he leaned back in his chair, trying to exhale some of his stress.  
Why did Potions have to be such a miserable class?  
Ron heard someone enter the library, the light tap-tap of Hogwarts uniform shoes on the hardwood floor. He had enjoyed being alone, but some company wouldn't hurt. Maybe it was Harry or Hermione, coming to help him with his paper.  
But, when he looked up he saw that it wasn't Harry or Hermione coming down the rows of bookshelves. It was Draco Malfoy.  
Could my morning get any worse? He asked himself as Malfoy continued to walk towards the table where he sat.  
Ron had an urge to snatch up his things and leave, but he had to write another paragraph before his parchment was filled, and that had to be done in the next ten minutes before classes commenced. It was too late to move anyway because before long, Malfoy was standing before him.  
Malfoy curled his fingers into his palms as he placed them onto the table and leaned on them, glancing down at what Ron was working on. Ron was surprised that Malfoy didn't hold a sneer this morning. He glared up at him just the same though.  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" he barked softly, determined not to make a scene and get banned from the Library for a week.  
Malfoy kept his placid expression as he spoke.  
"Look, Weasley, I know you don't want to see me here right now, but I had an urgent...issue I wished to discuss with you."  
Ron, wondering what in the world Malfoy could want to actually talk to him about, looked up, placing his quill back in the ink well.  
"Alright. I'm listening," he said as he folded his arms on the desk.  
Malfoy pulled a chair up to the other side of the desk and sat on it backwards, even though there was a table top before him, and folded his arms over the back of the wooden chair. He looked serious.  
"Okay, Weasley – I just wanted to apologize for what I said the other day."  
Ron almost stopped breathing. What did he just hear?  
"Sorry?"  
Malfoy seemed impatient, as though he could only stand to talk for a few moments with Ron.  
"Yes – yes, sorry for what I said."  
Ron couldn't keep the natural glare off his face as he gave a sarcastic chuckle.  
"Sorry for what you said, huh? I'm not sure that I remember correctly what it was you said to be sorry. So, if you would," he went on, basking in the power he had gained, if only for a moment. "Refresh my memory?"  
Malfoy rolled his eyes.  
"I said you and Potter were spending time in the Quidditch showers, okay? Is that good enough for you?"  
Ron knew there was more, but didn't press his luck. Who knew how long he would have Malfoy in the nervous and intimidated state he was in?  
"Yeah, now I remember. I can't help but recall people spreading rumors that Harry and I were a couple – all because of you." This received a sorry look from Malfoy, mixed in with his sneer of disgust. "Do you realize how damaging that was to my reputation?"  
Malfoy shrugged.  
"It was just a joke. Besides – I said I was sorry, okay? Are we even now?"  
Ron shook his head.  
"No. Why are you apologizing to me all of a sudden, Malfoy? What happened to you or better yet – who paid you off to pretend to apologize to me?"  
Malfoy groaned.  
"Weasley – I thought you were intelligent enough to know a true apology from a fake one. I don't apologize for money."  
"You must be apologizing for something. Who talked to you?"  
Malfoy looked as though the name of the person was on the tip of his tongue, but he shook his head and kept it to himself.  
"That's none of your business. I have to leave now, before anyone sees me talking to you."  
Ron laughed sarcastically as Malfoy turned and started to leave.  
"Can't have anyone see you talking to Potter's boyfriend, huh?" he said mockingly as Malfoy pretended he didn't hear it. But, before he turned the corner around the bookshelves, he stopped and looked over his shoulder at Ron.  
"They create more volume you know." he said matter-of-factly, but Ron didn't know what he was talking about.  
"Huh? What are you talking about?" he asked as Malfoy started walking off.  
"Hair-growth Potions." Malfoy called back as Ron glanced down at his paper. Indeed, he hadn't put this down and grinned as he jotted down another three sentences, smiling as his parchment was filled.  
When he looked up, Malfoy was gone.  
  
The group of students, both Gryffindor and Slytherin, huddled under umbrellas provided by the school as they made their way slowly across the grounds to the greenhouses for Herbology class. The grass – though short, was slick because of the rain it had withstood that morning. Harry had slipped a few times, almost taking Hermione down with him as he held onto her hand.  
Though it had been raining all day long, Harry still looked forward to this class even though he wasn't prepared to work on the project with Seamus. Seamus hadn't talked to him very much, so he had no idea what they were going to be doing.  
Looking to his left, he spotted a group of Slytherins walking in the same direction they were, towards Greenhouse 7. He hated their attitude towards the Gryffindors. What did they ever do to provoke such hostility towards them?  
He shrugged the feelings off as he gave Hermione's hand a squeeze. She returned it, weakly. He could tell she was still a little self- conscious because of the scratch on her cheek.  
"You okay?" he asked as he looked over at her.  
Hermione looked a little surprised at this question and shook her head.  
"No, no – I'm fine. Why?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"You just look a little down, that's all." he replied as Hermione smiled at him and rested her head against his shoulder as they walked.  
Suddenly, someone tripped in front of them, sliding down the hill as they watched him get soaked. Harry saw that as the person stood up, it was Neville Longbottom, a boy whom he had talked to often the previous year at Hogwarts. He grinned as Neville brushed himself off and started picking up his umbrella.  
"You okay, Neville?" he asked as he and Hermione caught up to their shivering classmate.  
Neville smiled nervously as he held his umbrella over his head once again.  
"Oh, I'm fine, Harry." he replied with a chuckle. "I was waiting for that to happen, actually."  
Hermione looked curiously over at him and muttered, "Oh?"  
Neville grinned. "Yeah. I've been sliding on this grass all the way down here. These school shoes have no traction, you know. It was just a matter of time before –"  
"Hey, Longbottom!" came a voice from the group of Slytherins. "Can't stay on your feet, huh?"  
It was Pansy Parkinson. Harry watched as Ron groaned a ways ahead of them. Harry felt bad that Ron had to work with her. He couldn't imagine spending more time than he needed to around the hateful girl.  
Pansy wasn't finished as she called out more insults.  
"Maybe we should call you Wetbottom! Ha!"  
Harry was about to shout something back, but Ron beat him to it.  
"Oh, bug off Pansy! We don't want to see your miserable rat face all the way there!"  
Harry laughed as Pansy frowned and moved into the group of Slytherins so that they couldn't see her.  
"Good one, Ron." he called up to Ron who looked back with a disgusted expression.  
"Well, I have to work with that git, so it's probably best to tell her off now rather than later."  
Harry was amused greatly by this, but, looking over at Hermione, he noticed she wasn't amused at all. He gave her hand another squeeze.  
"You sure you're okay?" he asked once more.  
Hermione nodded.  
"Harry – I'm fine. Don't worry about me."  
But I can't stop worrying about you, he thought as they entered the greenhouse, happy to get out of the rain and put their umbrellas away. The greenhouse was muggy, but at least it was warm compared to the icy temperature outside. Harry's nose was greeted by the scent of fresh dirt and fertilizer.  
"I hope Sprout's not late today," he said as he looked around the greenhouse for her.  
"I'm not, Potter." came her voice from behind them. This made Harry jump.  
Hermione chuckled as Harry watched Professor Sprout walk around them towards the front of the class.  
Once she was there, properly in place, she smiled.  
"Well, at least I know somebody wants me here." she started, looking at Harry which made him uneasy. "Anyway, today I've set up a free period for all of you to get together with your partners to work on your projects. I want you to work diligently, because this may be one of the only periods I give you to work on it."  
With a clap of her hands, she dispersed the class into groups.  
Harry looked down at Hermione and smiled.  
"I guess I have to part with you to work with Seamus," he said, leaning down to get a kiss from her, but she looked away. Harry wasn't sure what was going on with her, but was determined not to show that he was hurt by the way she'd been brushing him off all day, so let go of her hand and walked off towards Seamus.  
  
Hermione found herself alone and regretted pushing Harry aside. Now she'd be with Malfoy, the one person she didn't want to be around right then. Even Ron was far enough away from her that she couldn't talk to him. Looking up, she spotted Malfoy walking towards her and groaned.  
He gave her a half-hearted smile as he dropped his bag to the floor beside him. "Do I always have that affect on you?" he asked as he started rummaging through it, as though searching for something.  
Hermione sighed, not needing another enemy that day.  
"I'm sorry, Malfoy," she started, but Malfoy wasn't convinced.  
"Look – don't say sorry unless you mean it. Okay?"  
Hermione was struck by this comment and didn't know what else to do besides nod. "Okay...Malfoy."  
He looked up at Hermione, directly into her eyes and frowned. "I thought I told you to call me Draco."  
"Well...I – fine." she stuttered. This was strange to her. Malfoy – Draco, wasn't acting mean or insulting to her. "Geeze, aren't you full of surprises today." she commented as she folded her arms across her chest.  
"Surprises?" Draco started, grinning. "Oh yes, lots I'm afraid."  
"Huh?" Hermione started, wondering what in the world he was talking about. "What do you mean?"  
Draco looked up, annoyed a little.  
"Don't you Gryffindors understand English? Am I speaking a foreign language or something?" Hermione shook her head. "Okay then. I said I'm full of surprises today."  
Hermione still didn't understand.  
"Here –"Draco said finally, pulling three sheets of parchment from his bag and handed them to her. She took them reluctantly, not knowing what they were.  
Looking at them more closely, she saw that each – front and back – was covered in a handwriting she decided was Draco's since he had given the papers to her. She read the heading of the first page, and discovered that each was numbered.  
"Permetula Rosebud: the flower of love?"  
Draco nodded solemnly as though trying not to show much emotion.  
"I'm glad you can read." he replied as she turned over the first page and scanned the parchment. It was completely covered in information about the plant she'd never heard of before.  
"Draco – what in the world is all this? Is this our...project?"  
Draco nodded.  
"Yeah. We still have to write the report and everything, not to mention put together a study on the plant and presentation notes, but it's all the information from the book we need."  
Hermione grinned.  
"Wow." she started as she looked at him. "You really are full of surprises today."

Harry didn't like having to force himself to work. He didn't have much discipline when it came to doing work on his own – especially when it pertained to schoolwork. He sighed, scanning the list of plants with Seamus who seemed just as clueless as to which one they would do.  
"You have any ideas?" Harry asked him.  
"Nope." Seamus replied, shaking his head. "I'm not good at this stuff, remember?"  
Harry rolled his eyes.  
"That makes two of us, then."  
Hermione's voice from across the greenhouse caught his attention and his eyes slipped off the list for a moment as he looked up to see what horror Malfoy was putting her through. But, he was surprised to see her smiling and talking happily.  
What in the world is this? He asked himself as he handed Seamus the list.  
"Take this." he said as he walked behind a row of tall plants, determined to get closer to them and hear what was being said.  
Hermione was laughing, as though she was talking to Harry, but Harry knew she wasn't hearing one of his jokes. He was slowly creeping closer; hoping nobody spotted him eavesdropping on Hermione's and Malfoy's conversation.  
Slowly, he caught what Hermione was saying.  
"...This is amazing, Draco! When did you do all this?"  
Draco? Harry thought to himself as he listened on. Since when were they on a first-name basis?  
"Last night." Malfoy replied. For once, he didn't sound mean but actually considerate if not kind. "I felt really bad for what I said yesterday morning to you about Hagrid, so went out last night to his hut and got the plant. It's in my room right now."  
Hermione giggled. This made Harry a little jealous. Why was Malfoy making his girlfriend giggle?  
"This is just too awesome, Draco." Hermione went on. "I feel kind of bad not doing any work."  
"Don't worry about it." Malfoy replied as he rustled some papers that Harry couldn't see. "I just wanted to apologize, Hermione, for what I said and for reading your note –"  
Harry couldn't take it. He pushed his way through the row of plants, getting a stick sap all over his robes and tumbled at Hermione's feet as he tripped over the large pots the plants were in.  
Hermione jumped as Harry rolled forward, stopping himself before he bumped into her legs.  
"What is going on here?!" he demanded as he got to his feet.  
"Harry?!" Hermione started, sounding a little surprised and angry at the same time. "What are you doing?"  
Harry glared at Malfoy. Malfoy looked too innocent.  
"What's with you flirting with my girlfriend?" he bellowed, causing everyone else in the greenhouse to stop what he or she was doing and look up at them.  
Malfoy stepped back, looking as surprised as Hermione.  
"Flirting?" he spat back, as if he couldn't believe he was being accused of such a thing. "Are you mad, Potter? On something?"  
Harry was too enraged at the thought of Malfoy making moves on Hermione, so took a step forward, fists clenches at his side.  
"Harry – you were eavesdropping on us?" Hermione said, sounding a little betrayed.  
Harry didn't pay attention to the hurt in her voice as he went on.  
"Calling my girlfriend by her first name? Since when were any Slytherins on first-name basis with Gryffindors?" he spat.  
Hermione, tears brewing in her eyes, pushed Harry aside.  
"Wait a second!" she said, and Harry thought she was breaking them up, but she wasn't. She looked over at Malfoy, teary-eyed. "Did you just say that you read my note?"  
Malfoy looked like a cat caught in a food pantry. "Yeah?" he started slowly, the whole class watching them. "I thought you knew."  
Hermione started crying.  
"Out loud?" Malfoy nodded hesitantly. "You are so inconsiderate!" she wept as she looked up at him, staring directly in his eyes. "I can't believe you! After all you just said!"  
She turned on her heel and started out of the greenhouse without her umbrella, back towards the castle.  
"Hermione! Wait – I..." Malfoy started, but stopped when the door to the greenhouse slammed shut. He sighed, letting his shoulders drop. "Great." he said angrily as he glared at Harry. "Now look what you did."  
"I did?" Harry spat back, not believing that this was being pinned on him.  
Professor Sprout hurried over to Harry as Malfoy picked up his bag and umbrella and left the greenhouse.  
"Oh dear! Potter – I thought you knew enough not to touch anything I didn't instruct you to!"  
Harry rolled his eyes.  
"Professor, I think I have a lot more important things to worry about besides some stupid sap from a plant."  
Professor Sprout gave him a grave expression.  
"I'm sorry, Potter, but that's not just any plant sap, dear. It's Algorith Sap – and it's poisonous."  
The rest of the class gasped silently, sharing hushed conversations. Harry looked down at the crimson sap and felt his stomach leap.  
"Poisonous?" he started as Professor Sprout nodded.  
"We best get you up to the Hospital Wing. You'll want to get that off of your arms before the boils start to appear."  
Harry felt a bit faint as he was ushered out of the greenhouse.  
"Boils?"  
"Yes, Potter. I'm afraid you won't be doing anything for the rest of the day."  
Harry groaned. What else could go wrong?


	12. Firebolt

Chapter Twelve:  
Firebolt  
  
Rain pelted heavily against the windows of Hogwarts School, blurring the outside for anyone looking out. Despite the nasty weather, the students filed out of the school, cloaked in rainwear and sporting umbrellas. It was Sunday, and Sunday was the day of Quidditch Matches. Through the cold rain, they marched to the Pitch, filing down the rows of stands to watch the game.  
Professor Flitwick created a barrier between the students and the rain with a shielding charm, hoping that would brighten the students' spirits. This seemed to evoke more talking from the large group, and they eagerly watched the field, anxious for the game to being.  
Up in the stands, above the students sat the teachers each clustered in-groups according to House. They seemed just as eager to see the game as the students did. McGonagall sat beside Dumbledore, smiling as she watched the Gryffindor team walk out onto the field, receiving cheers from their House.  
"Look at them," she said, watching the team mount their brooms. "They look so confident."  
Dumbledore grinned.  
"They do, don't they?"  
Suddenly, one of the players caught his eye – huddled away from the rest of the team, talking. Squinting, he noticed the flaming red hair and bespectacled characteristics of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.  
"Look down there, Minerva." he said as he pointed out the two.  
"Oh," McGonagall said as she spotted who the two boys were. "What in the world are they doing?"  
Dumbledore glanced over at her.  
"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.  
"Potter and Weasley! Potter's not even close to being healed from his reaction to the Algorith Sap he got on him in Herbology!"  
"Algorith Sap?"  
"Oh Albus! Don't you even pay attention to me anymore?"  
Dumbledore sighed.  
"I've had a lot on my mind lately, Minerva." he replied. "This is one of my only enjoyable activities." There was a silence as McGonagall listened. "Those Dementors are fighting to get into our school."  
"Oh dear!" McGonagall said, putting a hand to her mouth. "They aren't still –"  
Suddenly, someone bumped into her, shoving past. She was about to glare at the person when she saw who it was.  
"Excuse me," came the voice of Lucius Malfoy as he gave her piercing stare.  
McGonagall humphed and turned to Dumbledore.  
"What is he doing here?" she hissed in his ear.  
Dumbledore gave her a sigh.  
"I can't stop parents from coming to see their children play Quidditch, Minerva." he replied as he looked out onto the field. The Slytherin team was making their entrance, zooming out onto the field as the crowd cheered, with some boos from the other Houses.  
"Ah, there's my boy." Lucius said with a satisfied smile.  
Dumbledore looked up to see Malfoy doing a lap around the Pitch, waving to the Slytherins as he did a zigzagging maneuver Dumbledore recognized as the Woollongong Shimmy.  
"Someone's been reading Quidditch Through the Ages." he muttered to McGonagall who nodded. "Despite the fact that he's nothing but trouble, he's a pretty good player." he added.  
Lucius turned to Snape and grinned.  
"Look at that." he said with satisfaction. "That's my boy."  
Snape nodded, not looking too interested. He caught McGonagall's glance and looked away.  
Suddenly, she turned to Dumbledore.  
"When is Wood getting here?"  
"Hm?" Dumbledore replied, caught a little off guard, then raised his eyebrows, remembering. "Oh – yes. He should be here soon. I got an owl from him saying he'd be a little late because of...something."  
McGonagall frowned.  
"Something?" she pressed on, determined to get some information from Dumbledore, but he just chuckled and crossed his arms.  
"I can't tell you what it is, Minerva. It would spoil the surprise."  
She shrugged and turned back to the field. Madame Hooch had stepped up to the central circle already, placing the chest holding the four Quidditch balls on the grass. She looked up at the stands where Dumbledore was and smiled. Dumbledore returned the smile and got up from his seat.  
  
"I don't care, Harry." Ron said as he mounted his broom, watching Harry scratch at a boil on his wrist. "You hurt her feelings, and that makes you in the wrong."  
Harry groaned as he gave up stopping the itching.  
"Ron – can't you cut me some slack?"  
"No," Ron replied as he glanced over at him. "Because I know she won't be cutting you any. You have to solve this the right way. You may think I'm completely ignorant when it comes to girls, but I have more experience than you think. I've lived with Ginny for the past...well..."  
Harry cut him off.  
"Look, I know I was wrong. But, I'm just –"  
Suddenly someone wearing foliage green robes zoomed past them, causing their hair and robes to flap in the wind. Harry frowned.  
"Look at him!" he said angrily. "He thinks he's so great. Flirting with my girlfriend!"  
Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.  
"Harry," he started. "You have to get over that. You know – if Hermione really likes you, she won't flirt with anyone else. Especially not Malfoy."  
Harry nodded.  
"I know. But, they were calling each other by their first names!"  
Ron shrugged.  
"Doesn't everybody?" he said before he kicked off into the air, leaving Harry alone on the field.  
Harry groaned in anger, kicking off after him. He knew there was something going on that everybody else didn't see. Why did Malfoy call Hermione by anything other than Mudblood?  
The chilly breeze caught his hair as he soared around the Pitch, watching everybody in the stands nice and warm beneath a canopy of fog that seemed to have been conjured to keep the rain off them. He wasn't in the mood to play. There was too much on his mind, but then again, he could use his anger while he played. There was so much he could do – and get away with...  
Suddenly he was shook from his thoughts as Dumbledore's voice echoed around the stadium.  
"Welcome students of Hogwarts!" he said as Harry spotted him standing at the announcer's podium. "I'm afraid that the weather is nasty, but that doesn't mean that we can't have an awesome game."  
This aroused cheers from every House. This made Harry smile slightly.  
"I'm going to give over the podium to our stand-in announcer, Dean Thomas."  
Harry smiled. He had been a good friend with Dean ever since the previous year when Seamus had gone against Harry, calling him crazy and a liar like the Daily Prophet was. He sighed and whipped his broom around in the air, brushing his hair out of his face.  
"Good afternoon, Hogwarts!" he said enthusiastically. "I hope you're all ready for a good show!"  
Ron stopped in the air beside Harry and groaned.  
"Can he get any more cheesy?" he called over to Harry, getting a grin.  
"If Madame Hooch will step up to the center of the Pitch, we can begin."  
Ron nodded to Harry and soared off to the scoring area, prepared to block any of the attempts from Slytherin. Harry moved to the center of the field, watching as Malfoy did the same. Malfoy looked up at him and grinned.  
Harry looked away. He couldn't stand watching Malfoy be so happy when he was so down.  
Madame Hooch looked up at every player, prepared to release the balls.  
"Alright!" she called to them. "I want a clean game. No fouling – if you can help it. I'll be taking away points for it this time, Crabbe."  
Crabbe snickered as he looked over at Goyle.  
Opening the chest, Madame Hooch stepped away as she watched the Bludgers zoom off into the air, circling the Pitch before going their separate ways. The Snitch rose into the air and circled around Malfoy. Harry glared at him as Malfoy watched the Snitch glint past him and zoom off into the air, disappearing from view.  
With the Quaffle in hand, Hooch looked up at all of them.  
"Ready?" she asked before putting the whistle in her mouth. Then, with a blow of the whistle, she threw the leather ball into the air.  
"And they're off! Bell has the Quaffle, closely pursued by the Slytherin Chasers. They're on her tail and oh!"  
Harry watched as the Quaffle slipped from her grasp as a Bludger hit her in the stomach.  
She fell against her broom and continued to soar around the Pitch as the Slytherin Chaser caught the ball and zoomed off towards the goal posts.  
"Not a good start!" Dean said through the enchanted podium.  
Harry groaned as he watched Malfoy lingering nearby. He hadn't moved much since the ball was thrown up and seemed to be taking his time – scanning the entire field.  
Suddenly, he looked up, catching his eye.  
"What's the matter, Potter?" he called to Harry as rain started to pick up. "Too cold for you?"  
"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Harry spat back.  
"You haven't moved much." Malfoy called back as he did a circle in the air.  
Harry frowned.  
"You haven't either," he said as he urged his broom forward, getting closer to Malfoy.  
  
"Wha' in the world is he doin'?" Hagrid asked as he looked through his binoculars.  
Hermione rested her chin on her fist as she looked up.  
"What's the matter, Hagrid?" she asked glumly.  
Hagrid frowned down at her.  
"Wha's the matter wi' you, 'Ermione? Aren' you watchin' the game?"  
Hermione shrugged.  
"Why should I?"  
Hagrid chuckled.  
"You certainly seem down," he said as he turned back to the Pitch. "'Arry looks like he's talkin' to Malfoy!"  
This caught Hermione's attention and she looked up to see that Hagrid was right. "What is he doing?" she asked herself as she got up and leaned over the barrier keeping her from falling down to the field below. "He's moving closer to Draco!"  
Hagrid lowered his binoculars and glanced down at her.  
"Draco?" he asked curiously.  
Hermione wasn't paying attention.  
"Look! Why isn't he looking for the Snitch? Doesn't he want to win?"  
Hagrid shrugged.  
"I though' you didn' wan' teh watch the game." he said with sarcasm and Hermione frowned up at him. "Looks like he's shoutin' or somethin'."  
  
"You're so stupid – Malfoy!" Harry yelled at Malfoy. "You think you're so cool, making moves on Hermione!"  
Malfoy sneered.  
"Moves on Hermione, huh? You call working on a project together making moves?"  
Harry lunged at Malfoy, but Malfoy ducked and Harry found himself facing air. Turning around, he saw Malfoy grinning.  
"You're challenging me?" he said as Harry turned his Firebolt around.  
"Yeah. That's right!" Harry said as the rain got harder.  
Malfoy started laughing as a Bludger passed by him.  
"You've picked the wrong day, Potter."  
Harry started after Malfoy, but Malfoy was too fast for him and started zooming away around the pitch, the colorful stands filled with cheering students passing by beneath his feet.  
Harry was too busy chasing Malfoy, ready to pound him that he didn't see the Bludger coming towards him and it whizzed past him, inches from his face. This seemed to bring him back to the game and he slowed, watching what was going on.  
"And there's another score for Gryffindor!" Dean shouted as the crowd cheered.  
At least we're getting points, he thought to himself as he watched Ron give him thumbs up.  
Malfoy stopped beside him, grinning.  
"What's the matter, Potter? Too fast for you, huh?"  
Suddenly the two of them looked up, as the stands seemed to shake with a gasp. Harry spotted a Bludger coming towards him and he did a Sloth Grip Roll to avoid it. When he looked up, it appeared Malfoy had done the same because another Bludger was coming at him from the other side. The crowd went silent as the two Bludgers collided in midair and emitted a loud boom.  
  
"Oh!" McGonagall cried as she watched the two Bludgers splinter off in opposite directions, one of them partly shattered and the other dented horribly, sending it zooming in awkward circles.  
Dumbledore was just as shocked. All his time as a Headmaster, he'd never seen something like that in a Quidditch match.  
"Would you look at that!" said somebody behind him and Dumbledore turned to see the tall figure of a former Hogwarts student.  
"Oliver!" he said as he got up, Wood moving to a seat beside him. "You came just as the action was getting good."  
"I see." Wood said as he sat down. "Isn't that Harry out there?"  
McGonagall turned towards him.  
"If you're referring to the one who almost got decapitated by two Bludgers, yes."  
Wood grinned.  
"That was a Sloth Grip Roll, wasn't it?" he said in a pleased tone. "I taught him that one."  
Dumbledore grinned, unaware that Lucius was glaring at them.  
  
"Holy crap, Potter!" Malfoy called as he heard a crack of thunder. "This is getting dangerous!"  
Harry shot him a glare.  
"What's the matter, Malfoy? Don't you thrive off of danger?"  
This got a frown from Malfoy. "Shut up, Potter." he called as he looked over the Pitch.  
Harry turned away from him, wanting to get the game over with sooner rather than later. It was getting icy cold and the rain was freezing. He had to find the Snitch.  
Suddenly, Malfoy dove towards the ground. Harry caught this and followed though not as fast. Malfoy's robes whipped out behind him and he reached out his hand as he got closer to the ground.  
Then Harry spotted it. The Snitch. Malfoy was going to get it.  
But he couldn't let that happen. Suddenly, he leaped from his broom and raced towards the Snitch with an outstretched hand. But, instead of catching the Snitch, he caught Malfoy's broom. Malfoy was caught off guard and shoved at Harry who clung to his Nimbus 2001.  
"What the hell are you doing Potter?" he yelled as he watched the Snitch zigzag just out of reach. "Get off!"  
Harry was shoved once again and the broom shaft was too wet to hold onto, so he lost his grip and fell. But, his Firebolt was just below him and he caught it, racing after Malfoy. He had to get that Snitch!  
But Malfoy had lost it. The Snitch zoomed off to the left and Harry followed it as fast as his Firebolt would take him. Reaching out his hand, he felt the Snitch in his fingers and –  
Suddenly a loud boom startled him and he lost the Snitch.  
"No!" he said as the tiny golden ball flitted off into the rain, hidden from view.  
Malfoy shoved into him.  
"What was that, Potter?" he said as he got a shove back from Harry. "Lunging at me now?"  
Harry gritted his teeth as he zoomed on, searching once again for the Snitch. The thick sheets of rain that pelted him made his glasses blurry and he had to squint to see. Then, something smacked into him. He felt himself forced backwards to the tail of his broom as a Bludger, the shattered one, caught his shoulder and ripped open his robes.  
The crowd gasped as he clung to the tail of his Firebolt, hoping he didn't lose his grip.  
Slowly, he pulled himself back onto his broom and gripped the handle.  
  
Malfoy was out of sight now and he had no idea where the Snitch was.  
Then he spotted it. It was just up ahead. He urged his broom on and reached out his hand –  
"Harry Potter catches the Snitch!" came Dean's voice over the roar of the Gryffindors.  
Harry did a lap around the Pitch with the Snitch in his hand, waving it at his House as he passed.  
After Madame Hooch had grabbed all the balls out of the air, she instructed the Gryffindor team to wait before heading to the changing room.  
"You have a surprise guest," she said and Harry grinned.  
"I all forgot!" he said as he looked over at Ron who smiled.  
Looking up at the stairs leading into the stands, Harry watched as the figure of a tall, brown-haired person descended. As the light caught his face, Harry saw that it was none other than Oliver Wood, his old Quidditch captain.  
"Wood!" he cried as he rushed forward to meet him.  
Wood smiled as he saw Harry. The rest of the team lingered behind.  
"Harry!" he said as he shook Harry's hand. "I'm glad to see you."  
"Same here!" Harry replied, glad to see his old friend again.  
Katie Bell stepped forward and wrapped Wood in a huge hug. Wood grinned as he returned it.  
"Hello, Katie." he said as he looked down at her.  
"Oh, Oliver!" she said as she finally let him go. Harry grinned as Katie admired Wood's figure. He'd always had a feeling Katie had liked him. "I'm so glad you're back! I really missed you!"  
Wood smiled.  
"Well, I'm glad at least two people are glad to see me." he said as he looked at the rest of the team.  
Suddenly someone appeared on the stairs. Harry looked over to see that it was Hermione.  
At first, she stopped when she saw everyone assembled there around Wood, then she caught Harry's gaze and looked down at her feet.  
"I...uh...I'm glad you're not hurt." she said quietly after a moment of silence.  
Harry held his gaze, not knowing what to say.  
Wood looked from Harry to Hermione, then back again. A look of dawning appeared on his face and he nodded to Harry.  
"I guess I'll be going up to the castle now," he said as he turned to Dumbledore who had descended the stairs behind Hermione. "I'll see you guys later."  
Harry nodded. "Are you going to be here a while?" he asked as Wood started towards the castle.  
"Yeah. For a week." he called over his shoulder.  
This made Harry a little happier. At least Wood would be there for a week and he could talk to him about Quidditch.  
When he turned back to the stairs, Hermione was gone. He looked all around as the rest of the Quidditch team left towards the locker rooms, but he couldn't see her. Sighing, he tried to flatten his messy hair, finding that this reminded him of how Hermione used to try to tame it and he felt tears stinging his eyes.  
Walking up the stairs, he made his way to the top box, overlooking the whole Pitch. It was completely deserted and he sat down on the nearest bench, resting his face in his hands.  
Looking up, he spotted the sunset through his tears and felt like he'd never be happy again. 


	13. Solutions

Chapter Thirteen:  
Solutions  
  
Draco stood under the shower with his arms open, letting the warm water rinse his dirt-covered body clean. The rain had dried quickly after he landed and left his skin feeling sticky and grimy. It felt good to be clean once again.  
Quickly stepping out of the shower, he got dressed and pulled his black Hogwarts robe over his regular clothing, just because he had to walk a ways to get back to the Slytherin Common Room and his body was chilled enough.  
Taking a quick look in the mirror to make sure his hair wasn't too messy, he stepped briskly out of the locker room and into the long hallway leading towards the entrance hall.  
He had planned on going straight to his dorm, but the sound of footsteps behind him made him slow his pace. They sounded like they were running, and he turned slowly to see who it was.  
"Draco!" came Hermione's voice as he saw her – hair messy and robes wrinkled – rushing down the deserted corridor towards him.  
A smile broke out on his face as he she caught up to him.  
"Hermione," he said with a grin, noticing how she had to catch her breath before she could speak. "I thought you of all people would know not to run in the corridors. Being a Prefect and all."  
Hermione laughed amidst her gasps.  
"Nonsense!" she said with a smile, straightening up. "When you're a Prefect, you have the privilege."  
This got a chuckle out of Draco and he felt a little better after losing to Gryffindor in the match.  
"So," he started after they'd shared a laugh. "What do you want?"  
Hermione started, looking to her right as she talked. "I just wanted to know what we were doing with our plant. You know – for the project."  
Draco shrugged. "We don't have Herbology until Tuesday." he replied.  
"Well," Hermione started, looking not into his eyes, but at his chest as though she couldn't look into them. "We could work on it outside of class, you know. Even though we're really far ahead – thanks to you."  
Draco smiled. He was glad she appreciated his notes.  
"Well, I'm glad you're not mad at me so much anymore about the whole note thing." he said as he caught her eyes.  
Hermione's expression suddenly went somber and she folded her arms.  
"That's the other reason I wanted to talk to you." she started. "I – um...was kind of a little rash, you know, in Herbology the other day. I blew up and I know I shouldn't have. Who knows the rumors that are going to be spread about me now!"  
Yeah, tell me about it, Draco thought to himself as he looked away. He'd already heard a million of them in his own House. For the most part, they were only about Hermione, but a few had involved him and he was sure the Gryffindors were having a heyday making up stories of their own to explain why Hermione had burst out of Herbology class with tears streaming down her cheeks.  
"I wasn't able to catch up to you," he started, not knowing where he was going with it. "I ran after you and –"  
"I know." Hermione cut in. "You were going to apologize and I didn't even give you the chance."  
"Well, you probably weren't in a listening mood with Potter eavesdropping on you." Draco said, not being able to stop himself. But, to his surprise, Hermione nodded.  
"You're right." she replied with a nod. "I was really mad at Harry. I mean – everything was going so well and then he had to go and ruin it! He usually does, though..."  
What? Draco thought to himself. Hermione badmouthing Potter?  
"I'm not saying he's a bad person," she went on. "But, he's been acting really...strange lately, you know? I mean – ever since we started going out he's been all over me." This received a raised eyebrow from Draco and she blushed. "Well, in a manner of speaking."  
Draco nodded.  
"I know. I've seen it. Him always kissing you. It didn't look too comforting, did it?"  
"No," she replied. "I guess not."  
There was an awkward silence between the two and Draco chuckled, just to add some noise to the hallway.  
"Well," he started slowly. "I don't want to say something I'll regret, so I guess I'll see you tomorrow in Potions."  
Hermione nodded.  
They both stood there, looking at each other. Draco half expected her to hug him, but she didn't. Turning back down the hallway, she smiled. "Goodnight, Draco." she said over her shoulder.  
Draco smiled as he turned his own way. He was about halfway down the hall when –  
Suddenly, out of a side hall came a hand that grabbed him, pulling him off his feet and off his path.  
Glaring down at him was his father.  
"Father –"he started nervously. "What're you –"  
"What in the world was that!?" his father yelled angrily, pushing him against the wall. Draco wasn't hurt, but it had shocked him none the less.  
"I – uh – you just –"he started stuttering, but Lucius cut him off.  
"I come down to the locker room to meet you and what do I find? You and Granger talking! TALKING!"  
Draco shrugged.  
"So what?" he said, pushing his father's hand off of his robes.  
Lucius glared down his nose at Draco. If looks could kill, he'd have been dead before he even made it down the hallway.  
"So what? My boy – what has happened to you? I leave you for a week and I come back to find you corrupt and conversing with Mudbloods!"  
He was becoming emotional over Draco talking to Hermione, so Draco cut in, wanting to cut himself some slack.  
"Father – I was only talking to Hermione because we're doing a Herbology project together!"  
"HERMIONE?" Lucius bellowed. "You're calling this Mudblood by her first name now?!"  
Draco rolled his eyes.  
"Look, Father – I've got a long paper to write for Potions class, so if you don't mind –" And with that, he shoved by his father and started down the hallway towards the staircase that led to the Slytherin portrait.  
Lucius straightened his robes angrily and sneered at his son.  
"You just wait, boy!" he called after Draco. "You wait until the Dark Lord returns to power! Soon! I'm warning you! If you choose the ways of the Mudbloods, I can't spare you his wrath!"  
Draco shrugged his father off and started up the stairs.  
  
Ron sat in one of the large armchairs before the roaring Gryffindor fire; Potions book propped on his lap as he stared into the flames. Every so often, the room would be filled with a loud crack and a burst of light lit up the room for an instant. He was alone and was glad to be. He'd had a long day – with Quidditch playing on his nerves the entire morning and then having to put up with Harry being hot headed towards him for not siding with him.  
That was the reason he had come down to the Common Room in the first place. He had to get away from the tension in his dorm room. Dean, Seamus and Neville were all there, but they were either busy with their own homework or too anxious to say anything or dozing off.  
Glancing out the window, Ron saw the full moon behind a veil of clouds.  
Sighing, he let the book fall from his lap onto the floor as he folded his arms behind his head, leaning back in the comfy chair.  
With nothing but the fire to keep him company, he felt a little lonely. But, his loneliness only lasted a short while because suddenly something came into the room through the portrait hole.  
The tiny creature was startled at first to see Ron sitting in the chair, then it slowly stumbled into the firelight, chuckling to itself.  
"Ron give Dobby a scare, Sir!" came the squeaky voice of Dobby, one of the House Elves that worked in the kitchens at Hogwarts.  
Ron grinned as he watched the little creature walk across the room towards one of the round tables, picking up crumpled pieces of parchment and throwing them into the fire.  
"I didn't know the House Elves cleaned at night," he said as he leaned on the arm of the enormous chair he sat in.  
Dobby chuckled as he went on tidying the room.  
"Of course, Sir. We cleans the Common Rooms by night and the dormitories by day. 'Tis the way of the House Elf. Never to be seen, we are." he said, glancing up at Ron. "Tonight be an exception."  
Ron grinned.  
"Are you going to be here long?" he asked after a while.  
Dobby shrugged beneath his uniform. "I comes and goes by night as I pleases after I cleans up the Gryffindor Common Room."  
Ron nodded.  
"Hey – do you think you could stay for a bit and talk with me?" he asked suddenly. The need for company was becoming too strong for him to bear.  
Dobby stopped to consider this offer, then nodded, his large ears flopping.  
"I suppose Dobby could, Sir. Dobby doesn't talk to others very often Sir, unless you counts Winky as a good conversationalist, Sir."  
Ron grinned as he motioned for Dobby to sit in one of the comfy chairs. The tiny House Elf hesitated at first as though finding this act to be a little too comforting then sat down on the edge of the large chair.  
"Can I ask you something, Dobby?" Ron asked as he looked over at Dobby.  
"Of course you can, Sir." he replied brightly.  
"Okay..." Ron started, sorting out how he wanted to word what he was about to ask. "I know this is probably a little awkward because I'm asking a House Elf and not a person – but, have you ever liked someone?"  
Dobby smiled.  
"You asks Dobby a personal question, Sir!" he said with a chuckle. "Dobby's never been asked about who he likes, Sir!"  
Ron grinned. "Well, you're one of the only people I can talk to right now."  
Dobby nodded.  
"Of course – how can Dobby forget, Sir? Dobby's liked someone for a while now, Sir."  
"Good." Ron said, resting his chin on his fist. "I need some advice. About liking someone."  
"Sir asks Dobby for advice?" Dobby said sarcastically. "Dobby not knows what to say!"  
"Well, I'll lead you on," Ron started. "About liking someone. I happen to like someone – well, someone for a while."  
Dobby grinned. "Everybody likes someone, Sir." he said, grin still in place.  
"I know." Ron went on. "I just – don't know how to tell them that I like them. That's my problem, you see."  
"I see, Sir," Dobby replied. He thought for a moment, then went on. "What Dobby would suggest, Sir, is writing this person a note."  
"A note?" Ron repeated, considering it. I guess I could... he thought to himself. "But, won't the person know it's me?"  
Dobby shook his head. "That's why you write Anonymous instead of name, Sir."  
Ron nodded, everything dawning on him.  
"I see now," he said as he reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of parchment.  
Dobby got up off his chair and started towards the portrait hole.  
"Dobby hopes Sir succeeds in letting his someone know how he feels!" he said over his shoulder as he left the Common Room.  
Ron sat back in the chair, resting the parchment on his Potions book as he started to write. It would be early morning before he would fall asleep. He had a lot to write before he would be finished. 


	14. Project Workings

Chapter Fourteen:  
Project Workings  
  
Draco found himself pacing his dorm room. The confrontation with his father hadn't lifted his spirits any and he hated the way Lucius had bashed Hermione.  
But, at this thought, he considered himself a hypocrite.  
_Stop it, now, Draco!_ He thought to himself as he ran his fingers through his hair. _You made fun of Hermione tons of times – calling her Mudblood and all!  
_ But then there was that other side of him that wanted to say he'd changed.  
_That was before! Before you knew Hermione – before you got to know her and realized that you...  
_ Shaking his head, he sat on the edge of his four-poster and tried to get all his self-worries out. It was a horrible habit of his to dwell on things until he felt sick in the stomach, though many never knew this besides his mother – however distant a relationship he had with her. Nibbling on the end of his finger, he tried to shake the unease from his stomach.  
It seemed to come in waves. It was horrible and he didn't enjoy worrying.  
_Then stop it!_ His mind told him.  
"I can't!" he said out loud, not realizing it.  
Slowly, he put his face in his hands and tried to sort it all out.  
He was of pure blood, but Hermione wasn't. His family came from a high, well-known position in the magical world and his father was a very influential figure in the ministry. Hermione's family consisted of muggles, which he knew not much.  
"I can't take this!" he said angrily to himself. He was mad at his father for being so closed-minded to mingling with muggles. If Draco had his way, he'd let it be known that he'd met one of the nicest people in the wizarding world – and she was a muggle herself!  
But then that horrible feeling returned to his stomach, stronger than before. He found himself feeling very alone and very vulnerable.  
Looking up through his fingers, he spotted the Permetula sitting in its pot beside his bed. Its purple petals and golden highlights shimmered in the fading sunlight. This seemed to brighten his spirits a little because he smiled at the sight of the intriguing flower.  
"Well, at least you're happy." he muttered to it, smiling. The flower seemed to nod as he said this, as though understanding. Draco blinked, but decided it must have been the light playing tricks on him.  
After a little while of watching the flower, he reached into his bag and took out a sheaf of parchment and a quill. He needed to talk to Hermione, but he couldn't possibly do that at this hour. She was probably in her room right now, doing homework.  
_Maybe I can write a note_, he thought to himself. Crabbe and Goyle were down in the Common Room making mischief again, so there wasn't anybody around to see him writing the note – or whom it was for.  
Reaching over the side of the bed into his bag, he pulled out a piece of parchment. He became displeased when he saw that it had a wrinkle at one corner and a crease down the middle. He reached in again, but he found that he had none left. That was his last piece.  
"Buggers!" he groaned as he tried to flatten the parchment on his lap. He did the best he could, but he feared even that looked too amateur.  
Taking a quill out of his bag as well, he put the tip of it between his lips – a habit of his – and thought of how to start the note.  
After a good five minutes of pondering how to start the note without making it sound too personal, he started scratching away at the parchment.  
  
_Hermione,  
I'm sitting in my dorm room right now and wanted to talk  
to you, but I can't. It's getting late, so I thought I'd write you a note.  
It's the next best thing to talking to you.  
This is kind of awkward for me – but – after you talked to me  
in the corridor after the Quidditch Match, my father confronted me.  
I'm no stranger to lectures – but he went on forever about how he'd  
overheard our conversation. Now – I don't think anything personal was  
said, but my father obviously thinks I'm getting too personal with you,  
but I think this is rubbish.  
If I could, I'd like to talk to you later sometime – perhaps while  
we work on our project. We could later in the evening. I think the Library  
will be open long enough for us to get half our report done. I've got all  
the research, so you don't have to worry.  
Well, I've got to get some sleep – I guess. I'll talk to you later._  
  
_Sincerely,  
Draco.  
_  
There. That sounded good. Not too formal but not too intimate. Intimate things made Draco gag. Friends was one thing, but –  
Folding the parchment clumsily into a tiny packet, he slipped it back into his bag, making sure it wasn't wrinkled any more than it already was. Tucking the quill beside it, he closed the bag and slid it beneath his bed.  
He'd have to give the note to Hermione the next morning before classes started. As he turned over, hearing Crabbe and Goyle coming up the stairs, he decided he could slip it to her in the hallway before they ate breakfast in the Great Hall.  
_That's good_, he thought to himself as he slowly drifted off to sleep.  
  
Harry was awoken by the sound of someone stumbling out of bed. Looking up without giving away that he had been awoken, he saw a blur of red and took it to be Ron. Keeping his head to the pillow, he watched behind squinted eyes as Ron struggled to pull on his robes, half dressed.  
Harry wondered why in the world he was making such a fuss over the way he looked. It appeared he was looking into a mirror that Seamus had brought with him. It was enchanted to point out things that didn't look nice like uncombed hair and crooked ties.  
Listening, Harry heard Ron groan to himself as the mirror squeaked out things that he was doing wrong.  
"Your hair – dear! It's awfully messy! But, a beautiful shade of red! That can make up for the messiness!"  
Ron ran his fingers quickly through it and sighed.  
"Does it look good now?"  
The mirror mumbled something that Harry couldn't hear because the pillow was blocking one of his ears, but Ron nodded and started towards the door.  
Harry sat up as Ron left the room. Taking his glasses off the bedside table, he put them on, squinting as the light and room came into focus. He got up and put on his slippers. Judging by the light outside, it wasn't nearly time to go to breakfast yet. The sun still had a ways to rise.  
Walking over to the mirror, he looked into it, being sure not to talk too loudly – Seamus and Dean were still asleep.  
Catching his face in the mirror, Harry started to talk to it, hoping it would answer him.  
"Excuse me," he started.  
Watching, he noticed that the glass reflecting his face back at him rippled from the center out as he talked to it. It reminded him of water. He half wanted to reach out and touch it, but he remembered the Pensive he had been sucked into in Dumbledore's office and decided to keep his hands to himself.  
"Yes, dear," the mirror started, the ripples getting greater as it hummed to him.  
"Um...I was just wondering if you know," he started, feeling a little guilty he had to be asking it that question. "Do you know where Ron's heading so early?"  
The mirror brightened a little as it thought to itself. Then, the ripples reappeared as it replied.  
"Yes, as a matter of fact – I do. But, I'm not liable to tell you."  
Harry rolled his eyes.  
"Is it something personal then?"  
The mirror gave out multiple ripples and Harry took that as a chuckle.  
"Yes, it is personal. Concerning someone else – but that's already too much for you to know."  
Harry nodded.  
"Okay. I'll find out for myself."  
The mirror stopped rippling as it replied sternly.  
"I wouldn't be doing that, if I were you." it said, only producing a single ripple this time.  
Harry turned, halfway into his robes.  
"Why not?"  
"Because. From what I've heard from your friend – you want to know too much. He said it's one of your faults, dear."  
"One of my faults?"  
"Oh yes. He said you were in trouble with somebody over wanting to hear too much."  
Harry groaned.  
"Hermione," he said as he rolled his eyes. "Thanks. I almost forgot about that."  
"It's just what I know, dear." the mirror replied apologetically. "It may help you. Perhaps you need to keep your nose clean."  
Harry chuckled.  
"Oh really?" he muttered back as he put on his shoes. "Well, we'll see whose nose is clean today."  
And with that, he left the dorm room.  
  
Draco had dressed quickly this morning and was up earlier than he usually did. But, he had to because if he wanted to get the note to Hermione without anyone else seeing, he'd have to slip it to her before any of his Slytherin classmates saw him.  
Quickly, he grabbed his bag and slipped out of the Common Room, down the hallway towards the staircase. He had an idea of where Hermione would be. If he knew her habits well enough, he'd say that because of the amount of stress she was going through – she'd be in the Library.  
As fast as he could, he made his way down the stairs, accidentally walking through Professor Bins' ghost as he did.  
A shot of icy cold ran through his limbs for a moment before he shrugged it off, seeing the entrance to the Library just in sight. Glad that nobody else was around, he headed straight for it.  
But, before he could get very far into the library, he noticed somebody sitting all by himself in a corner surrounded by balls of parchment.  
Slowly walking closer, he noticed that the person was Ron Weasley. Usually he felt a jolt of dislike towards the red headed boy, but this morning he felt a tinge of guilt towards how he'd mocked him. Ron looked distressed and he ran his fingers through his messy red hair.  
"No!" he muttered to himself. "That will never do! Bloody Snape! Putting his nose where it doesn't belong! I suppose the whole school will know by now..."  
"The whole school will know what by now?" Draco asked, not being able to hold his tongue as he watched Ron.  
Glancing up, Ron hastily snatched up most of the crumpled pieces of parchment, stuffing them into his already full bag. Draco decided to help and picked up a ball by his feet, but as he unfolded it, Ron got to his feet and snatched it out of his hands.  
"_Thank_-you." he said as he stuffed all of it in his bag. Draco shrugged and took a seat at the table next to Ron's. Placing his bag on the table, he took out the folded piece of parchment he was going to give to Hermione when he saw her.  
"What are you in here for, Malfoy?" Ron asked suddenly as he sat back down. He appeared less tense after he had hidden all the parchment away.  
Draco glanced over at him, flicking his eyebrow up.  
"Oh, I'm hoping to meet somebody before breakfast."  
Ron shrugged.  
"Oh," he started, looking down at the tabletop as though it were very interesting. "Me as well."  
Draco smiled.  
"Coincidence, eh?"  
Ron chuckled nervously. It was a short laugh that lasted only a couple seconds, unlike the ones that lasted for minutes at a time when he was around Harry and Hermione. "Yeah. Coincidence."  
Draco hated long silences between anybody, even if they were enemies, so attempted to start a conversation.  
"So, how's Potter been?"  
"Huh?" Ron started, looking up.  
"Potter. You two are friends, right? Or am I just stupid?"  
Ron shook his head.  
"Oh, we're friends...yeah."  
"Well, how is he? He's not still awful after all that puss stuff got on him, is he?"  
Ron shrugged.  
"Well, I guess it's worn off pretty well. He's stopped itching it, so that's good I guess."  
"You guess?" Draco replied with a grin. "That stuff sounded pretty awful to me. I wouldn't have wanted it to get on my skin!"  
Ron shook his head, with a smile. "Me neither."  
There was another moment of silence, and Ron appeared to be avoiding eye contact with Draco. Draco didn't know why, but he got the feeling Ron felt nervous around him. He couldn't imagine why because all he'd ever gotten from the red head was anger and a glare.  
"Loosen up, Weasley!" he said finally, not liking the tension. "I'm not going to bite."  
"Yeah, well, I'm used to getting slammed by you all the time. It's kind of hard to get used to being pleasant with someone you've loathed for a long time."  
"A couple years, at least." Draco added. Desperate for something to occupy him for more than a minute, he looked down at his watch, pretending that the time was interesting. "Would you look at that?" he muttered as he spotted the time. "Only a half hour till breakfast."  
_Where is she?_ He thought to himself. She usually went into the Library to do some homework or suggested reading. But, this morning it appeared she was still in the Gryffindor Dorms.  
Looking back over, he saw that Ron was writing something on the parchment again, vigorously.  
"What in the world are you writing?" he asked, curiously.  
Ron didn't look up.  
"Nothing. None of your business."  
"Oh," Draco said as he crossed his arms. "Okay. Not a love note, is it?"  
Ron rolled his eyes.  
"Can't you take a hint? Don't you know what bug off means?"  
Draco found himself slipping back into his sneering self, but didn't get a chance to tell Ron off for being rude to him because at that moment, he spotted Hermione outside the Library heading towards the Great Hall.  
Quickly, he got to his feet and ran out of the Library towards her, finally catching up.  
"Hermione!" he said as he put a hand on her shoulder.  
Hermione, turning, smiled when she saw that it was he. Her hair was tied up once again and she still looked wonderful in her school robes, even though they didn't flatter Draco too much.  
"Draco! Hey!"  
"Hey," he started, trying not to crush the note in his palm. "I...uh, was hoping I'd catch you before you went in to breakfast."  
Hermione looked a little muddled, but smiled just the same.  
"Oh. Why'd you want to catch me?"  
Draco took a moment as he tried to decide how to word everything. Then, he dove in.  
"Well, first, I wanted to ask you if you'd be up to working on our project tonight – you know...at Hagrid's. I think our flower will die if we keep it in that tiny pot, so I thought we could replant it in Hagrid's garden and watch it from there."  
"Oh...sure." Hermione replied with a smile. "That'd be great. I really don't have anything to do anymore, so I'll have plenty of time to work on things."  
"Great." Draco said, trying not to sigh in front of her. He was glad he'd started that off without sounding too uncomfortable. "Oh – and Hermione?"  
She turned back to see him looking a little uneasy.  
"Yes?"  
Draco hesitated, but then reached out his hand, giving her the note.  
"This is for you."  
At first, Hermione looked as though she didn't understand what it was then took it. She grinned and gave that sort of giggle she did when she was happy.  
"Thanks." she said simply and started edging back towards the Great Hall backwards, still facing Draco. "I'll see you tonight then. Six okay?"  
Draco nodded.  
"Six is fine," he said as she entered the Great Hall. "Six is absolutely perfect."  
As he turned to go back to his dormitory to pick up some things, he noticed Ron was still sitting in the Library, once again surrounded by crumpled pieces of parchment.  
Shrugging, he started towards the Marble Staircase. 


	15. Spying

Chapter Fifteen:  
Spying  
  
Harry slipped beneath his invisibility cloak and started town the spiral staircase into the Gryffindor Common Room. It was bustling with Gryffindors getting ready for breakfast. Harry didn't have to worry about getting ready because he already was. Slowly, he wove around people in his attempt to get to the portrait hole. After a minute or two of getting past the two Creevey brothers, he made it.  
As he pushed it open, he almost ran into someone but had just enough time to get to the side for them to slip by. Quickly so that he wouldn't get caught by anyone, he made his way to the Marble Staircase and made his way down it, trying not to step on the edges of the cloak as he started for the Great Hall.  
He had a feeling Hermione was already there, but he didn't know for sure. He was glad he was beneath his invisibility cloak because he could now spy without getting seen by anyone, unless Mad-Eye Moody was around, and Harry knew for sure he wasn't anywhere near him.  
Harry was about to slip into the Great Hall when he noticed someone in the Library. Stopping in the middle of the entrance hall, he stared at the Library with its nice arches and rows and rows of bookshelves. Moving closer, he spotted a flash of red hair surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper.  
Slowly, the features of Ron came into focus through the weaving of the cloak. At first glance, Harry would have thought Ron was working on his homework, but then he remembered that they didn't have any.  
The usually soft features of Ron were twisted horribly as he frowned at the parchment he was scribbling on. Harry accidentally kicked one of the balls of parchment on the floor around Ron and stopped as Ron looked up. For a moment, Harry thought he'd been found out, but Ron went back to his writing.  
Quickly, he covered one of the balls with his cloak and picked it up silently, trying not to make much noise as he walked away with it, unfolding the mess of parchment.  
Looking down at it carefully, he saw that it was the start of what appeared to be an owl post amidst the crumpled lines all through the khaki parchment. But, as Harry read some of it, he noticed that Ron wasn't writing to someone who lived outside the school. It was to someone at the school because Ron mentioned being in classes with the person. But, as he scanned to the bottom of the page, he found no name of the person.  
The note read:  
  
_ Okay,  
This is really hard for me to write, so hear me out.  
I've known you for a long time, and we've been in classes for  
who knows how long? But, anyway...  
There's something I've wanted to tell you since I met you.  
It kind of started to set off last year and that's when I noticed that I  
had feelings for you. It's kind of complicated and I don't know if I'm  
just being stupid wanting something I can never have or reaching for  
ridicule.  
The other day when I was serving detention with Snape,  
he asked me a question. I didn't have to answer, but I did because  
he said he'd let me go early. I don't doubt everyone knows the  
answer to this question by now, but he asked me if I liked you. I  
have no clue how he figured it out. I lied, of course, but in all truth,  
I do like you.  
So, I wanted to know if you'd give me a chance. I know it would  
be really, REALLY awkward, but I think it could work. We'd make a  
great team and we already know each other well enough.  
_ _ That's pretty much it. I'll try to talk to you later.  
  
-Ron._  
  
Harry brought the note down and looked up at Ron. He looked like he'd written at least four of five more attempts at that note, and Harry found himself intrigued at who Ron liked.  
But, he had no idea. Ron could like anybody.  
_Snape?_ He thought to himself as he watched Ron. _How did Snape find out who Ron liked and not me?  
_ Shrugging, he started out of the Library, taking the note with him and headed towards the Great Hall.  
  
Hermione was on her way down to Hagrid's hut with the rest of her class when Draco stepped up behind her.  
"Hermione – hey." he said as he brushed his hair out of his face.  
She smiled and slowed her pace.  
"Hey. You look like you've ran a while."  
Draco grinned.  
"All the way from the castle to get to you." They both shared a laugh and then Draco went on. "I had to talk to you, you know – about tonight."  
"Sure. What's up?"  
Draco was taken aback with this last statement. "What's up? Since when did you pick up the Muggle-ish slang?"  
Hermione shrugged. "It's easier than saying whole grammatically correct sentences."  
This got Draco to grin.  
"Well, cool, I guess. Anyway...if you want, we can meet in the entrance hall. I got a pass from Snape so that we can be out until seven thirty."  
Hermione nodded. "Sure. Why not?"  
Why not exactly, Draco thought to himself.  
"So, it's a date then."  
He immediately regretted saying this because he wasn't trying to add any hidden messages into anything. He started blushing as Hermione laughed.  
"You're kind of cute, you know?"  
After another minute or so, they made it to Hagrid's. To their surprise, there were no creatures prepared for them to work on. Instead, Hagrid had taken nine or ten giant pots and placed something in each that the students were to find.  
"Uh...afteh the erklin' inciden', I though' i' would be a good change teh work on somethin' tha' doesn'...um...hurt people." He glanced over at Hermione and smiled. "An' I'm also pleased teh have 'Ermione back wit' us. Please divide into groups of two or three fer each pot."  
Draco glanced at Hermione with a grin. "How's about it? Partners?"  
Hermione nodded.  
"Sure." The only other people she would have wanted to be partners with were Harry and Ron, but they had found themselves and she wasn't exactly getting along with Harry enough to want to work side by side with him.  
Quickly, they found a pot near the edge of the woods, up against Hagrid's garden fence. Draco was glad that nobody was watching them. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to have forgotten that he existed and nobody in Slytherin was making comments any more about Hermione or him for that matter.  
Looking back at the pot, he saw that Hermione was already using her hands to dig at the soft soil.  
"You're using your hands?" he asked as he pulled out his wand.  
"Why not?" she replied. "It's the fastest way. They can't do much with moving spells because they'll move only chunks of dirt with the object we're searching for along with it."  
Draco nodded, not having thought of it that way.  
"You know," he started. "Now that we're kind of alone – or away from everybody – I wanted to talk to you."  
Hermione didn't look up. "Okay. Go ahead."  
Draco put a hand on hers to stop her.  
"Seriously," he replied as she looked up. He quickly moved his hands away from hers and tried not to notice the red tinge in his cheeks.  
"Okay..." she said as she brushed her hair out of her face.  
"Let's see," Draco started, nervously. "Where should I start? Okay, so we've been working on this project for a little while, right?"  
"Right."  
"So, I've gotten to know you pretty well – compared to the way Potter and Weasley know you. Yesterday after we talked in the hallway, my father came out and told me he'd heard everything we'd said to each other."  
Hermione frowned.  
"But, we didn't say anything, really."  
"I know. But, he's angry that I'm getting along with you because you're...well, a..."  
Hermione nodded. "It's okay. I understand."  
"No – you don't. That's not what I think of you anymore. I was just scared, that's all. Just scared that I'd be picked out from my first year here and on! I'm sorry, Hermione and I wanted to make it up to you."  
Hermione looked a little confused at first, then started.  
"Look, it's okay. I get it. You don't have to make it up to me. I already know you're sorry."  
"Not enough." Draco replied stubbornly.  
Hermione sighed with a smile and started digging once again. But, after a minute or so of digging, she pulled her hand back.  
"Ouch!" she said as she looked at her hand. There was a long cut down her finger and a drop of blood had seeped out of it. "That hurt! What was that?"  
Draco shook his head, not knowing. "Maybe it was a sharp rock or something." He stared at her hand. "Does it hurt a lot?" he asked.  
"Well, a little..." she said as he took her hand into his to examine the cut.  
"Oh, it's only a little cut. Don't worry about it."  
He then reached into his bag and pulled out a handkerchief and started wrapping a strip of it around her fingers to stem the bleeding. She looked up, but he wasn't paying attention to her eyes. He looked so...caring.  
"There." he said finally, tying the knot. "That should hold it."  
"Thank you..." Hermione said as they both caught each other's glances. For the first time, she noticed that his eyes were a wonderful shade of aquamarine and the light danced on them brilliantly.  
Slowly, their faces got closer, but then Draco pulled away from her with a sort of chuckle.  
"Well, we'd better get back to the project, you know."  
Hermione nodded. She watched as Draco started digging through the dirt and started to uncover something in the soft brown.  
"Look," he said as he started pulling out a tiny golden object from the dirt, showing it to her. "This is probably what you cut your hand on."  
It was a knut and Hermione chuckled.  
"Never thought I'd be cut by my own money!" she said as she grinned.  
But, Draco noticed something different about this knut. It had a hole drilled into the top of it. He looked it over.  
"Do you want it?" he asked as he handed it to her.  
"No," she replied. "You can keep it."  
"Okay."  
Pocketing the coin, Draco decided he's find something to do with it later.  
Everyone else was finding knuts too. This had turned out to be an enjoyable class after all.  
  
"Look at them!" Harry said angrily as he dug through his pot with Ron on the side, scribbling once again on a spare piece of parchment.  
"You know, Harry," he started, not looking up. "Why don't you just forget about Hermione? She's not worth the trouble. Can't you take the hint?"  
Harry groaned and threw his handful of dirt to the ground angrily.  
"You know, Ron, I've had it up to here with you these past few days! Why aren't you on my side? You said you were all for Hermione and I being a couple."  
Ron shrugged.  
"I changed my mind."  
"What?" Harry shot back. "You changed your mind? Why?"  
"Well," Ron started. "For one, if you guys are fighting like this all the time, it's not going to work anyway. And besides, for another thing, I think you should find someone you have more in common than Hermione."  
"We have a lot in common!" Harry spat back defensively.  
"Oh yeah," Ron said sarcastically. "She's a know-it-all and you're a kid who gets good grades. Those are two really in-common traits, Harry."  
Harry groaned.  
"Ron – what the Hell are you writing all the time?" he shot at Ron in the most annoyed tone he could muster.  
Ron looked up this time.  
"What do you mean all the time?" he asked back. "I only started writing them this morning and I haven't written one all the time we were in classes – or at breakfast for that matter."  
"You weren't at breakfast, Ron." Harry replied. "I'm not stupid and I notice when my best friend isn't eating. Who're you writing the notes to, Ron?"  
Ron shot him a confused glance.  
"Notes? Where in the world did you get that idea?"  
Harry chuckled. "Come on, Ron. You're writing notes to someone you like. Or – someone you have liked for a while. Anyone can see it. Who is it? Come on. I'm dying to know."  
Ron got to his feet and stared down at Harry.  
"You've been spying on me!"  
"What? No!" Harry lied out of habit.  
"Yes, you have! I knew I heard someone in the Library listening to me!"  
And with that, he turned to leave. But, Harry got to his feet and followed him.  
"No – Ron! Wait!"  
Ron didn't.  
"Ron! Wait – I'm sorry, okay?"  
Ron stopped and turned to face Harry. They were a ways away from Hagrid's and nobody could hear them.  
"Sorry?" he asked as though he didn't believe it. "Harry, that's your problem. You're never sorry. You spied on me and you don't even feel a bit of remorse over it! Do you know how much it hurts that I can't trust you?"  
Harry did feel the tinge of guilt in his gut as he tried to explain.  
"What was I supposed to do, Ron? You used to tell me everything, and now you don't even tell me which homework assignment you're working on! What is going on with you?"  
Ron shook his head.  
"No. Don't try to turn the conversation on me. This is about you betraying me."  
"Then why didn't you tell me who you liked before I had to find out for myself?"  
Ron groaned.  
"Harry! I can't tell you!"  
There was a moment of silence as Ron caught his breath.  
"Wha – what do you mean you can't tell me?"  
"I can't tell anybody, okay? So just leave me alone for a while."  
And with that, he turned and started back up to the castle, leaving Harry alone and to finish digging out their pot to find their coin.  
Harry sighed as he started back to Hagrid's. The mirror was right. 


	16. Replanting

Chapter Sixteen:  
Replanting  
  
Hermione waited for Draco outside the Library arms crossed and cloak around her shoulders. She had made herself ready a full fifteen minutes before she had to meet him and hoped she hadn't done too much to herself. Pulling her hair up, she had tried to straighten it as she had done at the Yule Ball, but it didn't look very good up, so she had to settle for the curly frizzed-up look she always had.  
It was quiet for an evening at Hogwarts. Aside from the occasional passing ghost, Nearly-Headless Nick being one of them, there was nobody around. This was something Hermione knew she should be used too after her vast history of sneaking out after dark and roaming the halls, but it was different now. She was alone and wasn't used to it.  
The torches lining the walls were lit and they sent a dancing light across the stone floor. Searching for something to do, she watched the light, trying to convince herself that it was interesting.  
But, all of a sudden, a voice cut through the light noise of the crackling flames. It sounded muffled and mumbling – almost as though it was coming from behind the walls.  
The voice trailed, and Hermione looked up, surprised.  
Quickly, she looked to see if there was anyone around, but found no one in the Entrance Hall.  
"Hello?" she said softly into the silence. Her voice echoed eerily.  
But, the voice was gone.  
"Strange..." she said to herself. The voice sounded old – not the voice of a student or a teacher for that matter. It was a deep voice she had never heard before.  
But then she heard another voice accompanied by the tapping of footsteps descending the marble staircase.  
"Hermione!" Draco said as she looked up to see him, a smile revealing his white teeth spread across his face.  
Shrugging off the eerie feeling she had just had, Hermione smiled.  
"Hey. I thought you'd forgotten for a second."  
Draco shook his head with a chuckle, the Permetula in his arm and his robe in the other.  
"Forget? Naw. I'd never."  
This received a smile.  
There was a moment while they both stood there awkwardly, Draco shifting his weight from foot to foot while Hermione smiled. The Permetula looked heavy and she took out her wand.  
"Want me to help?" she asked as he grinned.  
"Sure," he replied as she used Wingardium Leviosa to lift the flowerpot out of his arms.  
With wand in hand, Permetula in the lead, they both headed out of the castle and into the dusk. A red tinge lingered in the clouds, giving them a warm look like embers of a dying fire. Hermione was glad that it wasn't completely dark...yet. She didn't like going out late. Sneaking hadn't entirely seeped into her system yet.  
"So," she started as they walked towards Hagrid's. "What're we going to do if we get caught?"  
Draco grinned. "Thought you might ask."  
Pulling out a paper from inside his robes, he unfolded it to show her. "It's a note saying we can be down here as long as it takes. It's for a class, after all. Snape signed it."  
"Snape?" Hermione said, wondering.  
"What?" Draco asked back as he refolded the note and put it back into his pocket.  
"It's just...Snape doesn't like Hagrid – or me for that matter. Why would he sign a note saying we could go down to Hagrid's?"  
Draco shrugged.  
"I didn't exactly tell him that you were coming. And, I didn't tell him that we were going to Hagrid's. I said that I had to go down to the edge of the forest to replant this for a class. Herbology, I guess he took it as. I'm not as stupid as you Gryffindors think."  
Hermione chuckled. "You're pretty cunning, you know that?"  
Slowly, they made their way to Hagrid's. His hut was brightly lit and Fang howled a little as they neared. Hagrid's booming voice came over the dog's cries.  
"Quie' Fang! Wake the whole bloody castle!"  
Looking out his window, he pushed the glass open when he saw who it was.  
"Oh, 'Ermione. Draco. I shoulda remembered you was comin' ou' here tonigh'."  
"Hi, Hagrid." Draco said as he watched Hermione put the Permetula down on the ground, pocketing her wand in her robes. Finally getting a second, Draco slipped into his black Hogwarts robe and wrapped it around his chest. It was a bit nippy out after all. The leaves had changed to golden browns and there was barely a hint of the summer green anymore on the grounds.  
"We just wanted to replant the rosebud – you know," Hermione started as she moved the pot into Hagrid's garden. "It's kind of dying and we don't know how to care for it just yet."  
"Oh," Hagrid said with his eyebrows raised. "Well, sui' yeself. I'll be in here if yeh need anything."  
And with that, he shut his window, drawing the curtains.  
Draco slowly made his way over to Hermione and helped her pull the giant purple plant out of its pot. Hermione was making a fuss over all the dirt getting on her robes, so Draco took it from her.  
"Here –"he said, taking the plant from her hands. "Let me do it."  
"No," she started to protest, but Draco insisted.  
"You can dig the hole with one of your charms. You're better at that than I am. Besides, I like doing the dirty work."  
Hermione shrugged and started on the hole.  
The sun was almost set by the time they replanted the rosebud. Draco wiped his hands together in a swiping motion, pleased that they had gotten so much done in such a short amount of time.  
"It's still light out, you know." he said as he looked up at the sky.  
"Yeah, so?" Hermione replied as she tried to fix her hair. It was falling into her face.  
"We could, you know – go for a walk, if you'd like." This received a weird look from Hermione and he quickly added, "No sense in taking the short way up the path when we can go the longer way and see the trees and stuff."  
Hermione smiled. "You know, I'd like a walk right about now."  
Slowly, Draco leading the way, they started off along the Forbidden Forest.  
After a while, Hermione started conversation.  
"You know, Draco," she started, not looking at him. "I'm really glad we're working on this project together. I don't know what would have happened if I'd worked on it with Harry. Knowing what he's like now – you know."  
Draco was a little shocked at this.  
"Now, Hermione," he started. "You and Harry are still friends, right? Do you really want to bash him some more?"  
Hermione shook her head. "You know, I'm not sure. He seemed so nice, but after he spied on me...I felt like I couldn't trust him. After all, we'd always spied on others, but we'd never spied on each other like that! I didn't feel very secure around him."  
Draco nodded. "I get you. Harry's pretty nice, I guess. I never really never got the chance to know him because I was too stubborn and...jealous I guess you could say. I was stupid. And an ass. I missed out on being friends with a really awesome person..."  
Hermione showed no sign of reaction, mostly Draco thought, because she didn't want to say something she would regret or become misinterpreted.  
"I've had a rough time with all this relationship stuff," she started again. "You know, Viktor was one thing. But, that was the first relationship thing I had. It just feels like all of a sudden, I'm this big target for everybody. I've never thought of myself as beautiful or even pretty. It was kind of like being doused with cold water after sleeping for a while."  
For a while, they walked on in silence, listening to the sounds of the woods and the crickets. They still had a while to walk before they'd reach the castle again, but neither of them seemed to mind.  
Then, unexpectedly, Draco said, "I think you're pretty."  
Hermione looked over at him as though she couldn't believe it. The sun had set so she couldn't see his face clearly – a dark shadow was cast across his features, but she took it as sincere.  
"Really?" she replied, wanting to make sure she wasn't hearing things.  
Draco stopped, turning to her.  
"If that's the only truthful thing I ever say, yes." he replied, looking a little embarrassed. "I was always pushing you away, Hermione. It was like a defense mechanism inside me. I couldn't be competing with you. You were...after all what my father wouldn't approve of. I never realized how much I thought about you. I tried to force you out of my mind because I didn't want to think of you, but that made me think about you even more! Now, I don't have to hide any more. I can me who I want to be. There's nobody stopping me."  
After saying this, he reached into his robes and pulled out a chain with something at the end of it. Hermione watched as he held it out to her.  
"What's this?" she asked slowly as she took it.  
"I made this for you before I came down to the Library. It's the reason I was a little late. I'm sorry."  
Hermione watched as the moonlight glinted off the shiny copper surface of the Knut they had dug up in Care of Magical Creatures.  
"Oh, Draco!" she said, admiring it. "You made this?"  
Draco nodded. "It's kind of my way of saying I'm sorry for everything I've done to you and showing you that I've changed. I care about you now. We've grown close...I guess..."  
Slowly, they started moving closer to each other. Hermione didn't even realize what was happening until it did. She could smell the mint on his breath, warm and wonderful as their eyes slowly slid shut. Draco's hand came up to her face and brushed her hair away as their lips slowly brushed, his soft and smooth with hers warm and pressing gently against his.  
_No_, she thought to herself as she thought about pushing him away, but then again why? Wasn't this what she had been wanting?  
_Yes – yes it is_, she thought again to herself. And it was wonderful.  
But, as soon as the kiss had started, it stopped. Hermione didn't think it lasted nearly as long as it should have, but she wasn't complaining. Slowly, Draco wrapped his arms around her and took her into a deep embrace, holding her tightly to him. She rested her head against his shoulder, taking in the scent of his neck. He smelled like cologne and she took it in gulps, letting it wash over her senses.  
"I think I'm falling in love with you, Hermione." he muttered into her hair.  
Hermione smiled.  
"I think you already have."  
It was a while before they finally started back up to the castle, not wanting to let the moment end so soon. This was definitely different from Harry, Hermione thought to herself. He had been hesitant, but Draco just with himself. It was different. In a good way.  
Slowly, Draco took her hand, letting their fingers lace as they made their way back up to the slowly dimming lights of the castle. For that one moment, Draco didn't care who saw them. He didn't care about anything anymore. 


	17. Prickle

Chapter Seventeen:  
Prickle  
  
Harry watched Ron from his chair in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, but it had to have been a while. Ron was writing something yet again, absorbed in what he was writing on the many pages of parchment.  
Leaning forward, Harry rested his chin on his fist as he watched Ron.  
Ron's red hair hung in his eyes and he brushed it away. He had a look of determination on his soft, pale features. This made Harry want even more to know whom Ron liked.  
But, he'd never know now because of the way he'd acted. He felt so stupid, but not embarrassed – or ashamed, for that matter. The only reason he felt stupid was because he'd gotten caught. That was something that happened to him a lot, so he knew he should be used to it by now, but he wasn't.  
"Damn it, Harry," he muttered to himself. "Ron's your best friend."  
And he was. Harry knew it. Who else had stuck by him in his times of need? Hermione, of course. But, his "relationship" with Hermione was wavering right then. Ron was the only person he could confide in, and now he'd blown it.  
_You have to do something_, his insides told him as he watched on. _Make up with him! Do something!  
_ "But I can't." he told himself sadly. How in the world would Ron even begin to accept his attempt at an honest apology?  
But, then again, Harry had to accept apologies from Ron before, so why wouldn't Ron do the same for him?  
"What the Heck," he said under his breath as he got up and started over to Ron. He tried to look casual, but it didn't seem to work. He just felt awkward.  
Finally, he made it to the fireplace and sat in one of the armchairs across from Ron's. Ron didn't look up, so Harry tried to start up his apology.  
"Hey, Ron." he said, hoping he didn't sound stupid. When Ron showed no signs of hearing him, he went on. "Can I talk to you?"  
"You mean now that you've thought up a reasonable excuse for spying on me?" he spat without looking up.  
For the first time, Harry felt really bad. He knew then how severely he'd hurt Ron and regretted it.  
"Ron – I want to apologize."  
"Quit wasting your time."  
"No – Ron!" Harry said, determined not to get frustrated. "Please, just give me a chance to explain. I didn't mean to read your note. I don't even know why I took the invisibility cloak. I was just stupid, I guess."  
"Psch – yeah." Ron said, not diverting his stare at the parchment.  
"I've just been...you know..." Harry started, but Ron cut in.  
"No, I don't know, Harry. Why don't you tell me what the Hell you came over here to tell me or go away."  
Harry gritted his teeth.  
"I've been worried about you, okay?"  
Ron stopped writing and looked up.  
"Worried? Why in the world would you be worried about me?"  
"Because," Harry went on, feeling really uncomfortable. "You've been lagging behind and I feel you're being excluded from the group – or what was once the group."  
Ron groaned.  
"Harry – I hate playing games with you. First it was you being famous. Then it was you and Lupin. Now you and Hermione. You're always finding ways to shrug me off – and I'm tired of it."  
"I know – I know you're tired of it." Harry said, trying not to let himself be bashed too much. "Ron – give me a break. I feel excluded as well. You never tell me anything anymore."  
"I never tell you anything anymore? What do you want me to tell you that I haven't already?"  
Harry shrugged, but Ron knew what he wanted.  
"You want to know who I like. Admit it."  
"Well – Ron! Who wouldn't want to know?"  
"It's none of your business."  
Harry pressed on. "Why won't you just tell me?"  
Ron got very defensive then. "Because! Harry, this is really, really personal. If someone else finds out, this could blow up in my face. Nobody can know who I like. Not even you."  
Harry rolled his eyes. "That's stupid, Ron! You can tell me anything."  
"Can I?" Ron asked as he raised an eyebrow. "Look, Harry, let me tell you something. That night I got detention, Snape asked me something. Do you know what he asked me?" He didn't wait for Harry to react. "He asked me who I liked. Said it was obvious who I did. Do you want to know something else? I told him! That was the stupidest thing I've done all year! Anyone could know!"  
"So?" Harry went on. "It can't be that bad of a thing."  
"But it is – Harry! No one can know."  
And with that, he got up and started towards the spiral staircase. Harry was about to stop him but then thought better of it. Instead he called something.  
"Just remember – we were close once. We still are."  
Ron sighed as he disappeared up the staircase, leaving Harry alone once again.  
"Damn it, Harry!" he found himself saying once more. "You just don't have the knack for problem solving, do you?"  
Finding himself slowly wading into a sea of depression, he was about to get up and follow Ron, but fell back. An enormous pain had erupted in his forehead and he found himself on the floor.  
It felt as though someone were re-cutting his scar with a red-hot sliver of steel. White erupted in his eyes and he fell face first to the carpet of the Common Room. He wouldn't remember getting there when he awoke.  
  
The portrait hole was opened not long after and Hermione stepped halfway into it, still holding Draco's hand. She didn't want to let him go. She hadn't felt that happy in over a week.  
She was about to leave Draco when he pulled her hack. With a giggle, she turned to him.  
"Draco – wha -?"  
But his mouth quieted hers as he gave her another kiss. She watched him grin as they parted.  
"Draco –"she said, putting a hand up to stop him. "I really should be going."  
"But I don't want you to leave yet," he said in a mock whine. After so long he was able to express how he really felt and now he had to let it go so soon.  
Hermione smiled.  
"I'll see you tomorrow."  
And with that, she started into the Gryffindor Common Room, leaving Draco behind.  
The creak of the portrait swinging back into place was the only sound she heard as she slowly made her way through the hole in the wall leading to the circular, warm Common Room.  
Feelings continued to wash over her and she wondered if she'd ever felt any of these before. A warm, tingly feeling seemed to have washed over her and she didn't want it to stop. For a moment, she'd completely forgotten all about how much Harry had hurt her or how she could never find Ron to tell him how she felt. Finally, she had someone she could relate to and someone who she thought felt the same way back.  
The Common Room, draped in scarlet and House spirit, was dim and the only source of light was the crackling fire that burned merrily as though it would never run out of wood.  
About to start up the stairs, she stopped suddenly. A faint sound had caught her attention and she turned on her heel to look back into the seemingly deserted room. The fire cast an eerie glow on everything, highlighting every piece of furniture and each rounded table leading to the announcement board.  
As she stepped back into the room, the noise got a little louder – a little clearer. It sounded like breathing mixed with a whimpering. At first, Hermione thought it to be a House Elf and was going to ask into the almost dark, what was wrong, but she saw none around.  
Then, as she stepped around one of the chairs circling the fire, she saw the source of the noise.  
"Harry!" she exclaimed as she rushed over to his crumpled form and crouched by his side, taking his hand in hers as she shook it to attempt to wake him. His eyes were squeezed shut and a thick layer of sweat coated his brow.  
As Hermione shook his hand, she called out for someone.  
"Help! Someone! Get down here! Harry's in trouble!"  
She was afraid she hadn't been loud enough when she heard footsteps coming down the spiral staircase. A group of five or six people had come out of their rooms, including the Creevey brothers and Ginny. Ginny's hair was mess and she rubbed sleep from her eyes as she entered the room.  
"Hermione – what's going on?" she half yawned. But then she saw Harry and turned as pale as a ghost. "Harry! What's happened?"  
Colin had his camera in hand and he snapped a picture as more people were aroused by the commotion. Hermione continued to shake Harry's arm, trying to coax him out of his stupor. The most she got out of him was a groan.  
Then, Ron came down the stairs. He didn't look like he'd been asleep, still in his school robes. He gave a confused look when he spotted Hermione on the ground.  
"Hermione?" he said as he surveyed the scene. Then he too saw Harry and stopped, whipped out his wand and lit it, shedding some more light on the group. "Hold on – I'll get McGonagall."  
He quickly raced out of the room and out to McGonagall's office. Hermione hoped he didn't take too long.  
"Hurry, Ron..." she muttered anxiously under her breath as the crowd grew, a buzzing slowly getting louder and louder. Then, the Portrait Hole opened and McGonagall, followed closely by Ron, entered.  
A look of shock appeared on her face.  
"Oh my goodness!" she cried as she pulled out her wand and started muttering a spell that generated a goblet filled with a blue, icy liquid in it. "Look out, Miss Granger! Let me tend to him!"  
Kneeling beside Harry's fallen form, she slowly lifted his head and put the rim of the goblet to his lips. Slowly, she poured enough of it in so that Harry swallowed it. With a sputter and a cough, Harry shook his head and came too, appearing groggy.  
"Huh...?" he started, but McGonagall shushed him.  
"No need to talk, Potter. It's alright now."  
Harry sat up quickly, looking around. Everyone he knew from Gryffindor was assembled around him in a sort of semi-circle. He blinked and reached for his glasses that had landed on the floor beside him.  
"What happened...?" he started, trying to form sentences without being too slow, but the potion had done something to his speech and he couldn't form full sentences readily.  
Hermione explained.  
"I was coming back from...from working on my project and I found you. You were passed out on the floor. Did someone knock you out?"  
Harry shook his head as he frowned, rubbing his forehead.  
"No...it was...my scar..."  
Half the people gasped silently, muttering things from under their breath to one another.  
McGonagall slowly got up and looked around at everyone. Slowly, she motioned them back towards the Spiral Staircase.  
"All right, everyone. Get back to your rooms. I must inform Professor Dumbledore about what's just happened and take Potter here to the Infirmary. It's best if you don't start a panic, please. We need to stay calm. It was probably nothing."  
Slowly, the group split up and started back to the stairs.  
McGonagall had Harry up on his feet after a few moments and Hermione was on the other side of him. Ron lingered behind, not believing what had just happened. Hermione turned to him and frowned.  
"Ron! Aren't you going to help?"  
He looked as though he'd been snapped awake and shook his head as though shaking away a thought.  
"Oh, yeah. Right..."  
He quickly hurried to catch up as they walked through the portrait hole. None of them said a word until they had arrived at the Hospital Wing and handed Harry over to Madame Pomfrey.  
"What in world...?" the nurse exclaimed as they moved him to an empty bed and laid him down. Hermione brushed his hair out of his face as he grimaced. It looked as though he were in a lot of pain.  
"His scar hurt him again. I'm going to go get Professor Dumbledore." McGonagall said as she exited the room.  
After she left, the room became very quiet – filled only by the bustle of Madame Pomfrey running back and forth from Harry's bedside table to the cupboard where she kept all her magical remedies. Harry just lay in his bed, eyes closed as Hermione knelt by his side, Ron lingering a few feet away outside the light.  
Once a few minutes had passed, Hermione started. She was already on edge and hoping to get some answers.  
"Harry...when did your scar first start hurting?"  
Harry squeezed his eyes shut before opening them. He talked through groans of pain and clenched teeth after every sentence.  
"I don't know – maybe a half hour ago. Do you know how long I've been out of it?"  
Hermione shook her head, but Ron spoke up.  
"Probably only five minutes."  
Both Hermione and Harry looked over at him and he sort of shied away. But, he went on.  
"If it happened between me going up to the bed and Hermione getting back...it must have been at the most, five minutes."  
Hermione nodded, then turned back to Harry.  
"Yeah. That's probably about right, Harry." She took his hand and rubbed it between hers. Harry noticed that her shoulders were shaking slightly so he squeezed her hand back.  
"Hermione – calm down. It's okay."  
Tears were coming out of her eyes and she held Harry's hand to her lips.  
"No – Harry," she started to sob. "No, it's not okay. I – oh man! I've been so _stupid_!"  
Harry felt really confused at first, then decided she was "stupid" for being mad at him. Hermione continued to cry into his hand.  
It lasted for a while, Hermione crying – Harry listening until they both slowly drifted off, not waking until half the morning was over. 


	18. Change of Emotion

_Author's Note: Okay, this will be one of the only notes I post on a story exactly. The formatting of future chapters will most likely differ from that of previous ones because I can't figure out how to change the formatting in Microsoft Word. Sorry about that. But, at least you have the chapter in all its entirety. Thanks so much for all the reviews and criticism!_

-superguy

Chapter Eighteen:

Change of Emotion

Ron blinked his eyes a couple of times as he awoke. Even with them closed he could see the bright light from the window. At first he didn't remember what had happened. But then the room came into focus and he saw Harry and Hermione; Harry in bed and Hermione kneeling beside it, head rested on Harry's chest and arm across it as well.

The chair Ron was sitting in was very uncomfortable. He'd been slouched in it, legs stretched across the floor with arms crossed, the entire night. Sleep was still in his mouth and he opened it a couple of times to release it. Fingers were still numb with sleep and muscles still ached, but he got to his feet anyway.

As quietly as he could, he made his way across the large room and slowly opened the door, stepping out into the corridor.

A blast of cold air hit his face as he passed slowly by a row of columns open to the cool outside. He didn't know where he was headed, but he had to get away.

After a while of walking, he made it to the Entrance Hall. The usual students were milling around outside the Great Hall. From the noise within it, it appeared everything was normal. At least no one knew about Harry's scar.

_Well,_ he thought to himself after a moment. _Most people don't know about it._

There was the small group of Gryffindors who were sitting at the end of the table. Most of them were from the previous night, sitting and talking eagerly. No doubt it was about Harry's...episode.

But, he wanted to get that out of his head. Walking down the row between Slytherin and Gryffindor, he made his way to an empty seat and pulled up a golden plate.

He thought he had been hungry while walking, but the looks he received from the small group at the end of the table made his appetite disappear quickly. None of the food looked...enjoyable any more.

Despite his lost appetite, he forked a slice of ham onto his plate and some potatoes as well. He could push them around with his fork as he thought about things.

But, the sound of hissing voices invaded his ears. He didn't even have to look up to know who it was.

"...Look – I wonder if he knows what's going on –"

"He should. Don't he and Potter go everywhere together?"

"Yeah – have you heard the rumors?"

"Rumors?"

Ron gave the group a side-glance as they leaned into the middle of the table to whisper things to each other.

"I've heard they meet in the Quidditch locker room to have private conversations."

"About what?"

"Some say Weasley's got a lot of secrets."

"Secrets? Like what?"

Ron got to his feet and slammed his plate down on the table. This made the whole hall go quiet. He couldn't keep the hurt and anger from his face as he quickly walked out of the Great Hall.

Draco stopped trying to eat his breakfast when the entire Slytherin table went silent. He was exhausted from the night before so slowly looked up to see what was going on.

_Probably Pansy being stupid again..._

But that wasn't it at all. Pansy was quiet like the rest of the table. Looking around, Draco saw that it wasn't just the Slytherin table that was quiet. It was the whole hall.

Then he heard footsteps hurrying out and saw that it was Ron. He looked upset – more than usual and was red in the face.

Quickly, he abandoned his half-eaten plate and followed Ron out of the Hall, getting snide comments from the Slytherins who watched him.

"Ron?" he called as he stepped out into the Entrance Hall. It was empty now – all the excitement was in the Great Hall. Or was...

The sound of crying led him down the corridor towards a carved statue of a vulture. Looking closely, Draco saw that Ron was sitting in the space between the wing and the wall knees pulled up to his chest as he sobbed into them.

"Ron?"

Ron looked up and the sight of his tear-filled eyes made a deep sympathy enter Draco. He sniffed and ran his fingers through his messy hair.

"W-what do you want, Draco?" he managed to get our in a quavering voice.

Draco looked down the corridor both ways to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then motioned to a spot next to Ron on the ledge.

"May I?"

Ron rolled his eyes and shrugged as he wiped his eyes, which did no good.

"I don't s-see why not." he replied as Draco took the seat.

Draco didn't know how to begin. He already felt a bit awkward following Ron out of the Great Hall, but he quickly pushed that aside.

"Ron – what's going on? Why're you...sitting behind a statue crying?"

Ron sighed.

"You mean you couldn't hear them?"

Draco blinked. "Them _who_?"

Ron rolled his eyes impatiently. "The Gryffindors! They're all talking about me. Me and Harry..."

Draco gave him a disbelieving stare.

"What?"

"Yeah – that's right. I guess now I have _secrets_ with Harry. Thanks to you and your Slytherin friends..."  
Draco couldn't believe this. He'd only meant those comments as a one-time joke. Not a year-round taunt fest for Ron. He put a hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Ron – I'm so –"

"Don't _touch_ me!"

Ron jerked away and Draco removed his hand.

"S...sorry. Just trying to be comforting..."

"Yeah? Well, I don't need your sympathy. So just – stop."

Ron looked like he was trying to put up a look of strength, but Draco saw right past that.

"Ron – who're you trying to kid?" he asked after a moment of silence. "Okay – I'm sorry about those...those jerks."

"Jerks? They're your friends!"

Draco got angry now.

"They are NOT my friends – okay?!"

This echoed across the corridor and got Ron to stop his sobbing.

"What?" Ron started after a minute.

"Ron – I know you're mad at me. But, I'm a person just like you. You can't tell me you never had to pretend to be friends with someone so you wouldn't get hurt!"

This caught Ron by surprise. He stared Draco right in the eyes and a look of understanding slowly softened them.

"You mean...you're not really friend with them?"

Draco guffawed.

"Friends with Pansy? She's just snot with black hair. And Crabbe and Goyle are more like followers than friend. You think I talk to them about crap?" Ron couldn't believe it, so Draco went on. "Ah – the moment of truth comes out. Draco's not as powerful as we all thought. Bravo. Good job."

Ron shook his head in disbelief.

"Draco – I'm sorry. I had no idea..."

"Nobody ever does."

There was a moment of silence, then Ron looked up into Draco's eyes.

"Hermione does."

Draco looked at Ron for a long time, then nodded. "She does, doesn't she?"

"Yeah. She's talked to me about you."

Draco blinked. "She has?"

"Sure. About how you changed. Now even _I_ am starting to see it."

Draco looked sorry.

"Ron...I really am sorry about how much of a jerk I've been to you. I can't believe I gave up such a good friend. I hope that's what we are...friends?"

Ron watched Draco for a moment, then shook his hand.

"Friends."

Draco smiled as he gave Ron a pat on the back.

"Come on –"he said as he got to his feet, holding a hand out to Ron. "Let's go back to breakfast. I'll eat at your table today as well. Let's give them more to talk about."

90


	19. Staff Meeting

Chapter Nineteen:

Staff Meeting

Albus Dumbledore sat at the large desk in his circular office, watching the enchanted clock positioned off to the corner of it. He had been seated there ever since the night before. Too many thoughts and assumptions filled his head and he had to sort them out. Most already were – pulled out of his head and added to the penseive on the shelf

Was Voldemort really near? That was the one question that seemed to continue to resurface in his mind every five minutes. He couldn't shake it.

_Why would he risk coming here after the incident at the Ministry? _ he thought to himself. It seemed a stupid act since the entire ministry was looking for him.

_But, who am I trying to joke?_ Dumbledore asked himself as he stroked his long, silver beard. _No ministry has the strength to take on Voldemort!_

That was the truth. Even the Order of the Phoenix which he'd put Harry in the trust of wasn't enough any more. They'd slowly given up following Harry everywhere now that he was back at Hogwarts, but now that was changing. Since the scar incident the night before, Dumbledore had come to many conclusions on the actions he was going to take.

Giving a deep sigh, he looked up at the wall wrapping around him. Covered with portraits of past headmasters, they all started solemnly back at him.

"Well..." he said softly to the portraits. "I believe it's time."

Each one whispered some hushed comment to their neighbor as Dumbledore picked up his wand. Pointing it at his throat, he muttered, "_Everloud_."

This allowed his voice to be heard all over the castle. With great solemnity in his voice, he started his announcement.

"Attention everyone. This is Headmaster Albus Dumbledore speaking. I would like to ask that every staff member present in the castle please report to my office for a brief meeting. Thank-you."

Slowly after that, one by one teachers filed into the large office, making it appear smaller and cozier than it actually was. Each one – besides Minerva McGonagall had confused and curious expressions on their faces. Dumbledore just sat at his desk, arms crossed until every teacher was there

He was about to start when someone else came into the room. Oliver Wood, apologizing his way through the room, made his way up to Dumbledore. His brown hair was a mess and he was wiping beads of sweat from his brow. It was evident he had ran.

"Headmaster –"he started, still trying to catch his breath. "Please excuse me – but I wasn't sure if this was something I should be present for."

Slowly he looked around the room at the silent faces, grinning out of embarrassment. Dumbledore put a warm hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye over his half-moon spectacles.

"Of course," he started reassuringly. "It would be best if you were here. I consider you staff as of tomorrow anyway."

Wood smiled as he let out a sigh and dropped his guard. Stepping back, he stood in the crowd of teachers by McGonagall.

"Now," Dumbledore started, hands folded before him. "I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here."

Snape let out a tense chuckle as he looked around the room. "Is it that obvious, Headmaster?"

This seemed to relieve some of the tension in the room as each of the teachers muttered something to his or her neighbor.

"No need for sugarcoating, Headmaster," Professor Flitwick squeaked. "We all know what's happened recently."

Dumbledore nodded. He knew – of course – that there was no way he could sugarcoat anything.

"Right," he started, avoiding eye contact. "I feel it is my duty to inform you of an event that took place last night. You all know of course the precarious position we are in housing young Harry Potter?" There were grumbles from the group of teachers. "Well, last night young Hermione Granger had the misfortune of finding Mr. Potter passed out on the Gryffindor Common Room floor."

Everyone in the room paled except for Snape who started to chuckle. Each teacher stared over at him, glares upon their faces.

"Come on –"he chuckled. "We find Potter passed out and it's call for alarm? Probably too much Butterbeer..."

Dumbledore wasn't pleased with Snape's attitude, but gave him a small smile.

"He told Madame Pomfrey it was because his scar erupted with pain, Severus"

Snape immediately stopped chuckling and seemed to shrink back into his teaching colleagues.

"Well...I..."

Dumbledore nodded, understanding.

"But – you-know-who can't be near here...can he?" Professor Sprout asked in a nervous tone, glancing around the room.

"It's not an impossibility," Dumbledore told her and everyone else in the room. "Which is why I'm urging all of you to be on the alert. If you see anything out of the ordinary – you are to report it directly to me."

"Is that it?" came a voice from the middle of the room and the group split to allow Mad-Eye Moody to make his way to the front. His magical eye fixed itself on Dumbledore as he seemed to stare him down. "That's your big plan? This is big, Albus – bigger than you and the whole Magical Community!"

"I believe I have everything under control, Moody," Dumbledore said, trying to hold his composure.

"But what if this is the beginning of an attack?" Moody pressed on and seemed to be rousing the nerves of the crowd.

"Please calm down, Moody." Dumbledore said, motioning with his hands. "If there is an attack, I will call a lockdown of the castle."

"A _lockdown_?" McGonagall exclaimed nervously. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said calmly. "It will be in the best interest of the students to protect them within this castle. I have unbreakable charms surrounding the corridors and entrances including windows," he quickly added, trying very hard to reassure the ruffled teachers. "Do not be alarmed. I'm sure Voldemort is far away from this castle. Now, I believe I've kept you from your nightly duties long enough. You are dismissed."

Slowly, the crowd parted and disassembled. Wood lingered behind afterwards, waiting as though he wished to speak with Dumbledore.

"Headmaster –"he started once the office was empty save them.

"Yes, Oliver?" Dumbledore said, stepping down to the timid looking Wood.

"Since this...event has happened...do you wish me to go on with my duties?"

Dumbledore smiled as he put a hand on Wood's shoulder.

"Of course I wish you to go on with our plans, Oliver," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "The Quidditch Finals will go on as planned – don't worry. That's one of the only things keeping the students going."

Wood nodded. "I'll agree."

Slowly, Dumbledore led Wood to the spiraling staircase.

"Tomorrow please make sure you hunt down our target," Dumbledore said, smiling as Wood chuckled.

"Don't worry," Wood said as he grinned. "Training's my job. Why do you think I came back here?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"I shall see you tomorrow at breakfast," he said in farewell as Wood descended the stairs. Watching him leave, he sighed.

His job was finished. For the night, at least.

He'd just have to wait and see what would happen. He prayed it would stay quiet. The last thing he needed was a panicked castle.

90


	20. Changes of Destiny

Chapter Twenty:

Changes of Destiny

Not long after Dumbledore had called the staff meeting, Hermione made her way through the deserted corridors of the castle. She knew it was late, but there was something she had to do. Plus, it was quiet at this hour and she definitely didn't need an audience for this.

The torches along the walls flickered, casting a golden yellow glow over everything. This seemed to make the shadows of things longer and darker which would have normally made her nervous. But, she was already nervous and nothing could scare her more than what she was about to do.

At last the door to the Infirmary appeared at the end of the lonely corridor Hermione almost hesitated before opening it, but she couldn't turn back. Not now.

The hospital was lit dimly so that its patients could sleep if they chose to. Hermione saw that Harry was reading which took away some of the anxiousness. She would have felt awful if she'd had to wake him.

Hearing the sound of footsteps, Harry looked up from his book with a smile when he was who it was.

"Hermione – hey!" he said as she walked slowly towards his bed. He didn't notice how nervous she was.

"Hey," she started with a slight almost forced smile "Well, looks like you're feeling better."

"Much," Harry reassured her, grinning. "Now that you're here."

Hermione chuckled anxiously. That wasn't what she needed. This meeting had run through her head millions of times before this. Harry's happiness to see her had not been a part of any of them.

Trying hard to shake off the happy feelings Harry was giving her, Hermione remained standing beside Harry's bed, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Harry," she started quietly "I need to tell you something."

Harry smiled.

"You know you can tell me anything" he replied, oblivious.

_Not this I can't_, she thought bitterly to herself.

"This is something serious, Harry."

Harry dropped his happy mask and turned serious. Sitting up, he looked her straight in the eyes.

"Sure...Hermione. What's the matter?"

Hermione stalled for a moment, then pressed on. There was no way she was getting around it.

"Harry, you agree we've been having some...issues lately with our relationship. Right?" Harry nodded. "Okay," she went on with a sigh. "I don't want to beat around the bush, Harry."

There was an extreme silence in the room now and Hermione felt the tension so bad she could have cut it with a severing charm.

"Harry...you've been acting really awful to me lately. I mean really awful." Harry looked almost pitiful. "So, this is why I want to...break it off."

Harry was completely silent. Hermione wasn't sure if he was crying or not, but his voice was shaky now.

"Okay," he muttered softly. "If that's how you feel. I'd rather not lose your friendship."

Hermione nodded.

"So..." she said uncomfortably. "I guess I'll get going now. See you tomorrow."

And with that, she left the Hospital and Harry extremely alone and lonely. Slowly Harry sobbed himself to sleep.

Ron sat on his four-poster, surrounded once again with crumpled pieces of parchment. His attempts at writing the note to the person he liked were once again crashing and burning.

With a tearing of another scrawl-covered piece of parchment, Ron gave up.

"This is it!" he muttered angrily to himself "I give it up."

Brushing all the balls of torn paper off his comforter, he took out his wand and shredded them, brushing them into his hand and to the trashcan. He'd tried a million times to tell this person that he'd liked...but none seemed good enough. This person was special to him and a measly little note didn't seem to contain how much he cared.

"What's the use?" he asked himself quietly. "Maybe I'll just say something later..."

Slowly, he got off his bed with the intent of blowing out the candle. But then he heard something.

Stopping, he listened. The sound was faint, but he could hear it clearly. It was the sound of a voice.

But where was it coming from?

Ron walked slowly to the window, resting his hands on the sill as he leaned out the window. Listening more closely, the voice sounded deep and almost angry.

Ron was just about to say something when the voice just stopped – disappeared.

"Hello?" he called out the window, but nothing answered. It was as though he'd never heard the voice at all.

Shrugging, he returned to his bed, blowing out the candle as he went. Tomorrow would be a busy day for him. He had a feeling it would be more eventful than any of the days he'd seen yet that year.


	21. Tension Relieved Stress Increased

Chapter Twenty-One:

Tension Relieved – Stress Increased

The next morning Draco descended the marble staircase as usual, a smile on his face and his robes in place. For some strange reason, which he couldn't figure out, he was unusually happy to go to breakfast. The group of ghosts passed by and he gave each of them a warm good-morning. The Great Hall was filled with students this morning and he passed right by the Slytherin table towards where Ron sat.

Ron was looking down as usual and he pushed his cold breakfast around his plate. Draco slid into the empty spot on the bench beside him and started forking pancakes onto his empty plate.

"G'morning, Ron." he said cheerily, trying to lighten the mood. When this didn't happen, he dropped his attitude to look over at Ron. "Ron – what's the matter today? Potter still mad at you?"

"No," Ron said glumly, pointing towards the Slytherins sitting across from them.

"Oh..." Draco muttered softly to himself as he too found himself glum. "Ron, I'm –"

But he was interrupted by the sound of Pansy Parkinson's high-pitched voice.

"Hey Malfoy!"

Draco looked up to see her and a small group of Slytherins snickering. It felt weird to be on the receiving end of his classmates.

"What do you want, Pansy?" he asked as politely as he could.

Pansy chuckled. "Why're you sitting over there?"

Draco rolled his eyes, hoping they hadn't seen. "In case you haven't noticed," he started loudly so everyone at both the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables could hear him, "I'm sitting with Ron over here. He's been eating alone for the past few days now."

Pansy snickered "Ron? Since when were you two on first-name bases with each other?"

"I think now that Potter's moved out, Malfoy's moved in," said one Slytherin. But Draco wasn't going to be mocked.

"Yeah," he started loudly. "That's it. Ron and I are a couple now. And I'll add that we're quite happy, thanks."

Ron was laughing now and grinned at Draco who gave him five. The group of Slytherins sitting before them all looked at each other stupidly as if trying to decide if Draco was kidding or not

"So," Draco said, still grinning. "Where's Hermione? I haven't seen her in a day. What's she doing – hiding?"

Ron shrugged with a smile.

"I don't know. Ever since Harry's scar hurt him –"

"His scar hurt him?" Draco asked suddenly and Ron lost his smile.

"Yeah...the other night."

Draco hadn't known this. So _that_ was why Hermione was always somewhere... He'd looked around the night before. The most he got was a few weird looks as if to say, 'Why're you looking for her?' and no leads.

"Oh...because I have to talk to her about our project. We're almost done it."

"Oh shoot!" Ron said to himself as he slammed his fist on the table. "I still haven't finished mine! Parvati still has the textbook we're using..."

But Ron didn't have long to dwell on this because suddenly Dumbledore's voice broke through the buzzing students' and they all turned to look up at him. He was standing up at the large podium that had made its way onto the teachers' stage that week.

"Students – if I may have your attention, please." he began. The room immediately quieted. "Thank-you. I believe there has been much stress here these past few weeks with the winter break just a few more classes away."

There was some grumbling in the crowd, and then Dumbledore went on.

"I would like to say it's about time we had some more fun around here, so I'm pleased to announce Hogwarts will be hosing a dance this Friday."

There was a silence throughout the whole hall as the students took this in. Draco found himself skeptical though he knew he should be pleased instead. Why would Dumbledore suddenly announce an out of the blue dance? _On second thought_, he thought to himself, _is that even like Dumbledore_?

"Well, I shall leave it at that." Dumbledore said with his usual smile.

The hall immediately erupted into buzzing talk that was almost painful to hear. Phrases like, "A _dance_?" and, "All of a sudden – I don't like it..." were heard throughout the entire student body. Draco glanced over at Ron just as Pansy's voice came over the roar.

"So – you two are going then?"

Draco watched Ron go red in the ears even though it looked as though no one but them had heard. With a stern look on his face he got up from his seat and put a hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Sure," he said loudly, directing it towards Pansy. "Consider it a date. Save me a dance, Ron"

And with that he exited the Hall, chin up and eyes front. The Slytherins just laughed, pointing at Ron as he got to his feet as well.

He couldn't just sit there as they laughed at him. He had a hard time deciding whether Draco had made things better or worse. Either way, this made him a ridicule. He'd probably be laughed at now, so what was the point in thinking of a real date to the dance?

A hand stopped him as he was about to exit the Hall and he almost turned around to tell whoever it was to bug off, but he was surprised to find the face was not that of a Slytherin but the face of Oliver Wood.

A mixture of shock and surprise came over him as the anger quickly subsided. He hoped he was smiling because the hurt feelings he had felt earlier were gone.

"Wood!" he said as he turned to face the now taller and darker former classmate. "Well – this is kind of a...surprise."

Wood grinned the way he usually did and nodded.

"Hello to you too, Ron," he said as he looked behind him at the chatting tables. They were mostly watching the two of them because Wood had left the teachers' table to follow Ron. "Ron – I was wondering if I could have a word with you alone."

Ron had to let this process through his brain for a moment, still watching the Slytherin students talking about him, then nodded quickly.

"Sure," he said as they started out of the Great Hall. "Why not?"

Wood nodded. "Good man."

After walking for a few minutes in silence – Ron wondering when Wood was going to start talking to him – Wood stopped at an empty classroom and opened the door. Making sure it was completely empty, he nodded to it.

"Let's talk in here."

They both went in and Wood shut the door. It was faintly light in the room, which spooked Ron a little. But Wood began talking which took his attention fast.

"Were those Slytherins bothering you?" he asked unexpectedly.

Ron blinked. "Wha – oh, no. Don't worry about it."

Wood looked into his eyes as though trying to weed out the lie in that haphazard statement then went on. "I know that Malfoy kid was talking to you. I hope he wasn't taunting you or anything because I have the power to make it stop."

Ron chuckled and shook his head. "Believe me, Wood, Draco's the last person you should be worrying about right now."

Wood gave him the look that was like asking; 'First name bases?' but shook it off.

"Right," he said as he avoided Ron's eyes. "Anyway... You know the Quidditch Finals are coming up soon?"

"In about a week, right?"

Wood nodded.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I've been speaking with Dumbledore the past few days and he's agreed to letting me be the official Quidditch trainer for the Gryffindor Team." Ron looked speechless, but Wood chuckled. "I know – a little late in the game, right?"

"But still! You've got a real job working with Quidditch! Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

Wood nodded with a smile.

"I'm glad _someone's_ enthusiastic about it. Lucius Malfoy certainly wasn't. I don't even know how he found out... But, anyway. I've been watching you play – and I'll admit you've got some talent. But it could still use a bit of tweaking, if you know what I mean."

Ron nodded.

"So – what're you going to do? Train me or something?"

"For the big game." Wood finished. "I've set up a time for tomorrow evening when I can work with out. You don't have anything planned?"

Ron thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Nope. Not a thing."

"Good," Wood replied. "I want to see you tomorrow at six on the Pitch. Don't let anyone know you've got training. It's sort of a secret – okay?"

Ron grinned. He'd like to see the look on the Slytherin's faces now.

"Sure. I'll be there. Under wraps. Got it."

Before they left the classroom, Ron turned to Wood and sighed. "Thanks, Wood. That's just what I needed."

Wood smiled

"No problem, Ron."

And with that, they headed towards the Entrance Hall.


	22. Overhearing

Chapter Twenty-Two:

Overhearing

It was perhaps one of the most awful feelings that had ever overcome Harry. He'd been tired of lying in the uncomfortable hospital bed and decided he was going to try to get up. It was also perhaps a bad idea because immediately his head was filled with a nauseating pain. Falling back onto the now more than familiar hospital sheets, he pressed the palm of his hand firmly against the lightning-bolt scar. The pressure seemed to lessen the pain, but a hint of it still lingered after his hand was removed.

Forcing himself up, he staggered into the middle of the room. He was glad Madame Pomfrey wasn't around because she would have made an awful fuss, which was something he did not need right then.

A cool gust of wind came flowing into the room like fresh water into salt, and Harry spotted the open window, curtains blowing in the breeze. Perhaps that was what he needed. Perhaps the cool air would calm his senses. He could use some numbing, he thought. After the night before, he didn't feel much like _feeling _anything.

Upon reaching the window, another wave of pain erupted in his forehead and he fell forward, the windowsill looking very inviting. Waves upon waves of jolting pain ate away at him. He felt he was going to be sick – perhaps that was why Dumbledore had instructed him to stay in bed. But, he didn't feel much like lying awake in an uncomfortable hospital cot while he fumed in his anger and wallowed in his sadness at the breakup he'd just been a part of.

The air was much cooler with his head out the window and he fell to his knees, resting his head on his folded arms. He did feel better now that he wasn't raging with heat. The pain slowly subsided once again. He hoped now more than ever that the throbbing wouldn't become a pattern.

About to nod asleep at the sill, Harry's eyelids drooped. But then he heard a voice below his window. It sounded like the voice was talking to him, so he opened his eyes to see who it was. The voice was familiar, but the pain seemed to have affected his hearing, making everything fuzz up like static on a muggle radio station.

His window was overlooking the grounds and the Great Lake. If he weren't almost dying, he probably would have enjoyed the view. But, the voice caught his attention and he soon forgot all about the pain.

Peering over the large stone sill, he spotted Hermione. That immediately crushed his idea that the person was calling up to him. She was walking towards someone, the person she had called to. Harry couldn't see who it was because the trees beside the castle were blocking the person from view.

Slowly, he made out what Hermione was saying between static.

"...What're you doing here? I thought I was all alone."

Harry recognized happiness in her voice, as though her tone betrayed her words. She was actually happy to see who it was. Perhaps it was Ron. Harry couldn't see, but he guessed that was who it was.

But then the voice of the other person floated up to him and he didn't recognize it as Ron's voice.

"I've been looking for you all day! Where in the world were you first period?"

Harry rolled his eyes. Hermione was skipping classes now? What next? She definitely wasn't the girl he knew his first year at Hogwarts.

"I kind of needed some time to myself...that's all."

Time to herself? Or time to laugh about her triumph the previous night? Was it really that exhausting to tell Harry they were through? But Harry didn't have much time to ponder this because the conversation went on.

"I see. Well, you got me worried. After everything that's happened... You know how it is."

He guessed Hermione nodded because her hair bobbed a little. He was of course watching this with the top of her head being the main focus from where he was positioned.

"I know. I guess I just had to think about stuff."

The person went on, curiously. He wasn't the only one. Harry was listening intently.

"Stuff? What kind of stuff?"

Hermione paused for a moment, then gave a long sigh, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Oh...last night I snuck out of the Gryffindor Common Room to go to the Hospital Wing."

The other person seemed to become understanding. At least, that's what it sounded like in his voice.

"To see Harry?"

Hermione nodded this time.

"Yeah...and to...you know, break it off."

The other person jumped right in.

"Really?"

Was it just Harry, or did that statement sound really happy? He guessed it just sounded happy because Hermione seemed to brighten.

"Yeah. I couldn't help it...I mean, we weren't getting along and everything. So, I wanted out. We were better friends."

"I'll say. Speaking of relationships..."

_Oh no_, Harry thought to himself. _Not this. Not now. I really don't need it._

"I was wondering...Dumbledore just announced a dance for Friday this morning. At breakfast, you know." Harry knew where this was going. He didn't have to be a genius and he wasn't that thick. "I was wondering if we could go. As a couple – I mean."

Hermione didn't reply. So, the voice went on.

"It'd be a chance to get out in the open with this. No more sneaking around after classes and whatnot."

Hermione nodded slowly this time.

"I suppose we could. It's probably a good thing that people know what's going on between you and me..."

_No!_ Harry thought. _She dumped me for someone else?! What did I do? Why do I deserve this?_

"Great!" the other voice said and a person came out of hiding and embraced Hermione. If Harry was questioning who it was before, he sure wasn't now. In the sunlight, he could see. The blonde hair said it all. It was Draco Malfoy.

Getting up, Harry didn't even notice the pain that was still in his forehead. He didn't have time to. He had plans.

Grabbing his robes from off the chair, he pulled them on and started out of the Hospital Wing, into the corridors to somewhere he could be alone.

"Awesome!" Oliver Wood exclaimed as Ron swooped out of the air on his broom and caught the Quaffle. The leather ball was a little worn out, but Ron still gripped it like a pro after practicing on the ground a thousand times it seemed.

The private lessons with Wood were more than exciting. Never before in his life had Ron been given personal attention to something he was good at. Something he _could_ be good at. Quidditch almost made a mockery of him the year before, but now he could see himself becoming a great player.

Enjoying the cool evening air, Ron threw the Quaffle back down to Wood and maneuvered his broom back into the air, circling the goal posts a few times before coming down for a landing.

The grass rippled out as he planted his feet on the ground, stepping over his broom and receiving a pat on the back from Wood.

"You did great tonight, Ron." he reassured Ron with a large smile. That said more than words could.

"I feel great!" Ron replied, helping Wood put away the balls, securing the chest that they were stored in. For once in his life, things were going his way. The way they were supposed to be. The way they should be.

"You may feel great now," Wood started, "But if you don't shower and stretch, those muscles are going to ache tomorrow. I worked you as hard as a professional Keeper. Head on inside and I'll see you tomorrow before the game – if Dumbledore permits me."

"Why wouldn't he permit you?" Ron asked as he shouldered his broom and started walking with Wood, dragging the chest behind him.

"Well," Wood started. "Let's just say this isn't supposed to be known by anyone. Slytherin has had a personal trainer in the past, and Dumbledore's only letting me train you this time because he feels it's only fair to the other teams. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff will get theirs in due time, but its kind of pointless that they have one now when they're out of the league."

Ron nodded. That was true.

"But, anyway," Wood went on. "Get on up to the Locker Room and get to bed. You'll need all the sleep you can get. You don't have any homework to do, do you?"

Ron thought it over. He did, but it was only little stuff. He could easily get it done within twenty minutes.

"No."

"You sure? I can get an extension on the due dates."

Ron was really enjoying the attention, but decided that he'd rather not get behind in his work.

"No, I'm sure. No big deal."

Wood nodded.

"Well, hopefully I'll get to talk to you before the game tomorrow."

With a parting handshake, (awkward because of the things they were carrying) Ron made his way to the Quidditch Showers. The thought of a nice, warm shower was inviting after his long training session. The sweat clung to him like powder from a donut on fingers. Rubbing his forehead, he took off a layer of cool moisture. It wasn't dripping down him, but it still stayed with him.

He was pleased to find that the corridors were empty. It was late and the sun was almost set, so everyone were probably in their Common Rooms or their beds. It didn't bother Ron. He liked the quiet.

Entering the showers, he pulled off his robes and let them fall to the floor. He was glad to drop the added weight of dirty robes. They were made of silk, so that added a little awfulness to them when he was hot. The fabric seemed to trap the heat within his robes and he didn't like it on some days. If it was cold out, they were great. But other than that...

Turning on the shower, he ran his hand under the faucet head to make sure the water wasn't too hot or too cold. He planned on letting it run for a minute or two before he actually stepped in. That way he wouldn't get caught in the middle of a temperature change. They tended to do that at night. He only knew that because of the late night Quidditch games between he and Harry they'd had towards the beginning of the season.

That was perhaps as close to training as Ron had ever gotten. But, he still had had fun around Harry and then the showers were deserted so they had their choice of the best ones. There were best ones because Harry had secretly tested them each out, alternating between a few after each game. It was sort of a game to him. Ron was always amused watching Harry turn each of the showers on as he ran his hand under the jets of water.

Later on, after trying each one, he had concluded that the one to the far end of the showers was the best. It wasn't one of the ones that would switch from hot to cold for a few seconds in the middle of a shower. This had happened to Ron multiple times in the past.

Now the perfect shower was his. It felt good. Things really _were _going his way.

Shedding the rest of his clothes, he stepped into the streams of water, running his hands through his hair as he did so. The sweat came off easily and he felt like a new person. It was cool also to not have to fight off six other siblings to get to the shower. He could take as long as he wanted.

But, it was getting late and he knew he had to finish that homework Wood had insisted on waiving. So, after five minutes, he got out and grabbed his towel off one of the many hooks lining the wall. The soft, fluffiness of the white towel was inviting and he quickly dabbed off all the water covering him and wrapped it around his waist as he walked over to the mirror.

Looking at his reflection, he noticed that he looked different. Something had changed since the last time he'd looked at himself in this mirror. His eyes seemed more confident as he looked at himself. He looked healthier and the depressed look was no longer slashed across his face.

Once he was completely dry, he walked back over to his clothes. Quickly pulling on his robes, he was about to dash out of the Locker Room and up to Gryffindor Tower, but a sound stopped him.

It was just a quick sound, but he caught it none the less.

Turning on his heel slowly, he let the heavy door to the corridor swing shut as he listened. It sounded like a voice. But he couldn't make out the soft words. They sounded half formed...like someone was muttering in their sleep. It wasn't the sound of a student, though, Ron concluded as he made his way back into the middle of the tiled room. It sounded almost...

_Snake-like_.

That sent a shiver down his spine, hairs on his arms standing up beneath his robes. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. He was safe down here...he knew it.

But then a new sound muffled the other one. A familiar sound Ron was able to recognize off the bat. It was sobbing. Nothing at all like the hissing voice he thought he had just heard.

Looking around, he searched for the owner of the sobs.

"Hello?" he started, hating the way his voice echoed. As if he needed it to be magnified when he didn't know whether his company was friend or foe.

The sobbing stopped for a moment, and then he heard the sound of someone wiping their nose loudly. Walking around a corner in the room leading to the lockers, Ron spotted someone huddled on one of the benches in the middle. The dark hair and spectacles revealed the identity of this person to him immediately.

"Harry?" he asked as he took a few steps towards his crying friend. Harry's shoulders shuddered as he turned to face Ron, looking almost embarrassed that Ron had found him crying.

"Ron – I – I didn't know anyone was down here!" he said, trying hard to wipe away the tears so that Ron couldn't see them. But, that was impossible. His cheeks were drenched with them.

"Harry," Ron started as he walked over towards Harry, taking a seat beside him. "What're you doing down here? It's late."

Harry shuddered and brushed his hair out of his face, revealing a red forehead where his scar was illuminated in white. It didn't look healthy.

"Harry!" he started, concerned. "What's going on? I thought you were having that checked!"

Harry took off his glasses so as to wipe his eyes better. "I was," he started. "But, it's just getting worse. The pain stopped for a while, but it's always coming back. Probably because I'm stressing myself out too much. I mean, if I hadn't overheard Hermione and Draco –"

"Hermione and Draco?" Ron started. "This is about Hermione and Draco?"

Harry nodded.

"But, how did you hear anything about them? They've been away from the Infirmary for...all day!"

Harry nodded. "You're right. But, I heard them out my window. Hermione's going to the dance with Draco. She dumped me for Draco..."

Ron sighed.

"Don't take it personal, Harry –"

"But – for Draco?"

Ron put a hand on Harry's shoulder, trying to comfort him. "They've been liking each other for a while, mate."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "How do you know about this?"

Ron grinned. "I know a lot more than people think. While you guys were ignoring me, I was getting the scoop on what was going on with whom. I'm not completely helpless."

Harry nodded, brightening a bit.

"Well...it still hurt. A lot."

Ron nodded.

"I imagine it will. It does – more like it. But, you can't dwell over it. I mean, I'm not one who has experience, but you can't go around dwelling on stuff. I might not have had a relationship, but I've sure had brothers. And I've gone on dwelling about not being as good as them. It isn't fun, Harry and it makes nothing better."

Harry almost didn't want to believe it – he was feeling better letting out his feelings to the empty walls of the Locker Room. But, Ron was his friend again it seemed, and he took his advice, getting to his feet.

"Ron..." he started as they made their way towards the door. "What're you doing down here?"

Ron didn't want to tell Harry about the training because that might set Harry off again. So, he decided to not tell the truth, but not lie – however that worked.

"Oh," he started slowly. "I was doing some practice for Quidditch. The Finals tomorrow, you know."

Harry nodded. They were already going up the marble stairs towards the Fat Lady portrait.

"You going to be playing tomorrow?" Ron asked after a moment of deep silence.

Harry was taken off guard with this question. Ron didn't doubt Harry wouldn't miss the Finals for the world. That was all he had talked about for the entire season.

"Of course," he started. But he put a hand up to his scar once more.

"You sure?" Ron asked as they neared the Fat Lady.

"I'm more than sure." he replied. "With some sleep, I'll be fine in the morning."

"Does Madame Pomfrey know you left?"

Harry chuckled.

"She will when she finds I'm not there tonight."

They both laughed as they made their way up the spiral staircase to the boys' dormitories.

Before entering their room, Harry stopped and faced Ron.

"Ron, I want to thank you."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Thank me? For what?"

Harry shrugged. "For being there. For still being there even after I've been such a jerk."

Ron grinned. "What're friends for, mate?"

And with that, the two of them stepped into their room, feeling happier and more confident than either of them had felt all year long.


	23. The Quidditch Champions

Chapter Twenty-Three:

The Quidditch Champions

_An Author's Note:_

_I would like to dedicate this chapter to two close friends. This chapter is a milestone in my fanfiction and writing career in that not only has this chapter been so challenging to produce, the characters that I have crafted within these pages reflect real personalities. It has come to the point where although the people in the story bear the names J. K. Rowling gave them in "The Sorcerer's Stone," they are not her characters in this story. They have changed into what I wished them to be, with new objectives, new character development and new hearts._

_First, I would like to dedicate this chapter to my close friend Sarah. For a long time I was drawn away from the story that I had started. It seemed I couldn't put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. But then Sarah read this story – in a weekend too! – and that amazed me that somebody I knew was interested in the story that I had to tell. To intrigue me even further, she enthusiastically begged me to update the next chapter._

_Then and there, I had to tell her that I had nothing written to update. But she looked me in the eye with her infectious smile and said, "Then write more!" To her I dedicate this chapter. Thank-you for giving me the will to move on with this story._

_The second friend I would like to dedicate this chapter to is my friend Ryan. Though he's never read "The new Alliance" and has no idea this story exists (as far as I know!), he's given me inspiration for Draco as well as Ron in his mannerisms and the way he talks. I don't know how I always return to him when I'm stuck with a character, but I always find what I'm looking for in him. For that, I dedicate this chapter to him. Thank-you for being my inspiration._

_Lastly, I would like to show my gratitude towards all the people who have read this story and written reviews – positive or negative. All criticism is welcome and I'm really writing this story for the fans like me who can't stand the wait for the next book. As long as there is a reader for me, I'll continue to write my fanfictions._

_Now, on with the chapter._

_-superguy_

"Please, Professor!"

"No."

"But – how can you tell me no?"

Professor McGonagall stopped halfway down the torch-lit corridor, Harry trailing behind her. He had been hurrying after her the whole way, pestering with questions in a futile attempt to win over her approval.

"Potter," she started as she swiveled around to face him, fixing her spectacles on the bridge of her nose, "let me tell you something."

Harry – who had been tense with anxiety before then – softened his shoulders as McGonagall put a hand respectively on one of them.

"It is not my doing to keep you out of the Quidditch finals. The school knows you earned that spot as Seeker this year! But, I really cannot allow you to risk your life for a mere game of Quidditch. The Headmaster has forbid it, and so then must I."

"But – Dumbledore doesn't understand!" Harry exclaimed as he blinked away the tears that were heating behind his eyelids. Nobody understood what it was like to go from hero to zero in less than a week. Added to that was the hindrance of his scar panging again, so his week hadn't exactly been the best.

"Potter, please," McGonagall replied in an exhausted tone. "Consider this conversation over."

Harry was left by himself, the sound of McGonagall's footsteps on the stone floor echoing methodically around him.

"Draco!"

The crowds that had formed in the Quidditch stands were so deafening that it seemed almost impossible for anyone to pick out a single voice. But Draco looked up – sure he had heard Hermione's voice from the Gryffindor section.

Scanning the many faces in the long stretch of stands, Draco searched. The crowds seemed to be a moving, breathing blend of red and yellow. The House Spirit was amazing on the Gryffindor side. Everyone was cheering – the occasional ribbon being shaken in the air over the side of the railing.

_That's odd,_ Draco thought to himself. He was sure he had heard his name called – from the Gryffindor side no less! There was only one person who would cheer for him on the Gryffindor side.

"Hermione, where are you?"

Letting his teammates dressed in evergreen robes filter ahead of him, Draco stopped. If it had been Hermione who had called to him, he wanted to at least pick her out of the mass of waving Gryffindors.

"Draco!"

This time the voice came from the Pitch up ahead. Goyle had stopped and was giving him a confused stare. Draco returned the stare as he started trudging towards the bulky boy.

"What?" he asked as he stopped abreast Goyle, still scanning the stands.

"Stop it."

Draco wasn't paying attention as he continued in his futile attempt. "Stop what?"

Goyle's hand caught his arm and gripped it firmly. Draco's eyes met his and he had to try not to shrink away from the ferocity in Goyle's eyes.

"Stop looking for the mudblood." He said firmly. Draco – appalled – was about to reprimand the towering boy he had once called an ally, but Goyle cut him off. "You can't risk our chance at the Quidditch Cup over some girl. Get your head back in the game. Besides, your father's in the Top Box."

Draco held his stare a moment longer before shoving Goyle away from him angrily.

"Big deal," he started, steeling his scowl. "My father only comes to make an appearance."

A cheer erupted from the stands as seven scarlet-robed players on brooms shot into the sky, circling the stands with the reward of fanfare.

"There's our adversary," Goyle said, his eyes piercing Draco's once more. "If you're a true Slytherin, you'll defeat them for us."

Draco chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "So it's all up to me, is it?"

Goyle grunted as the sarcasm as he mounted his Nimbus 2001 and soared up to his respective spot to begin the match. Draco, taking one last look up at the Gryffindor stands, mounted his broom as well and kicked off into the cool air.

He wanted more than ever for the match to be over. The fluttering in his stomach had accompanied him all week long. All he wanted was to go to the dance with Hermione that night and let things go.

Lee Jordan's voice wafted to his ears as he brought his broom to a halt.

" – And lastly, the Gryffindor Seeker for this game, Ron Weasley!"

What?!

Draco had to regain his grip on his broom as he tried to process what he had just heard. Weasley the Seeker? What happened to Harry?

Hovering across from him, Ron looked up hesitantly. What was going on? Did they know how much harder this game was going to get now that Ron and he were friends?

Ron made an attempt at smiling, but Draco couldn't return it.

"What happened to Potter?" he called, but it was drowned out by the high chirp of Madame Hooch's whistle as the Quaffle was released.

All at once the Pitch was alive with movement as the Quaffle was caught by Crabbe and eagerly zoomed towards the Gryffindor goal posts. It was snatched away by Ginny Weasley as Draco maneuvered his broom relatively close to Ron.

"Where's Potter?" he called to Ron over the drum of the fans.

Ron shrugged. "Guess he couldn't play. So I stepped up."

"_Guess_ he couldn't play?!"

Boom! A bludger caught Draco's shoulder as it passed by him, zooming after another Slytherin.

"Watch out!" Ginny called to Ron as the two of them recovered from the close call. But Draco didn't have long to recover before Goyle was down his throat with anger.

"MALFOY! WATCH WHAT YOU'RE DOING!" he yelled as he watched Crabbe with the Quaffle.

"Sorry!" Draco snapped back, but Goyle wasn't finished.

"Just get the Snitch, will you?"

Draco clenched his teeth to stop from shouting back, but even if he were going to yell an insult back a huge gasp from the stands would have drowned his voice out.

Turning his broom, he scanned the Pitch for the source of amazement. But he found nothing there. The action was happening in the stands.

"Albus! Look!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed as she pointed to the Gryffindor stands.

Dumbledore stood up and walked to the railing as he watched a boy holding a broom leap off the tallest Gryffindor tower and soar into the Pitch.

"That's Potter!" McGonagall said in amazement as Harry zoomed after a golden speck that hovered inches away from his outstretched hand. "Stop him, Albus!"

But Dumbledore just grinned as he watched the young wizard on the Pitch.

"My, does that boy have determination."

Harry was struck in the shoulder and turned to see Ginny frowning at him. When he looked back, the Snitch was gone.

"What in the world are you doing out here?!" Ginny called over the cheers from the stands.

Harry, with a cold glare on his face, replied, "I'm playing my championship."

Ron soared into view and gave a start as he saw who was on the broom. "Harry! What's going on -"

"So you've replaced me now?" Harry spat at him.

Ron was taken aback. "What're you talking about? The team needed a Seeker -"

"So, you stepped up to take my glory?"

"Harry, stop it! You're being stupid!"

Zoom! A glint of gold soared by Ron's ear and over Harry's head. The two quarrelling boys stopped what they were doing to chase after it.

Draco watched the two Gryffindors zooming after the Snitch and eagerly joined in, hoping to beat them and win the game.

Before he knew it, the three of them were neck-in-neck, shooting towards the sky. Harry was in the middle and stretched out his hand. His fingers brushed the sleek finish of the Snitch before Ron shouldered into him.

"Forget about it, Harry!" he shouted as he reached for the golden orb. "This game is mine!"

"No, Ron! Give it!"

Draco shot out his hand this time, putting on an extra burst of speed to slip into the lead. But Harry's arm shot out and struck him. His balance wavered as he lashed out at his broom to regain his grip. The wind thundered in his ears as Harry reached again.

But suddenly a string of events happened all at once. A Bludger shot up out of nowhere and caught Ron square in the stomach, causing him to move his broom crookedly back towards the ground. Harry - arm extended in the air - doubled over as a scream was unleashed from his lungs. Draco watched as he slowly lost his grip on his broom.

The Snitch was inches from Draco's fingers, but he couldn't pull his eyes from Harry as he convulsed on his _Firebolt_. Agonizing cried of anguish ripped through the wind and the fans below gave shocked remarks.

"Malfoy -" Harry screamed as he soared on beside Draco. His voice shuddered as he clutched at his forehead, his glasses falling from his face. "Draco - he..help me!"

Then, as if in slow motion, his fingers released the polished surface of his broom and he fell. Draco gave one last look at the Snitch before he pressed down on his handle, shooting after the free-falling Harry.

His scarlet robes were mere ripples as the wind tore at them, fraying the ends into strands. The lifeless form tumbled through a veil of mist, arms and legs flying all over the place at the mercy of the frigid air. The wind caused Draco to squeeze his eyes to a squint as he caught up to Harry.

Then, in one swift movement not a moment before striking the ground, Draco shot an arm out and wrapped it around Harry, pulling him onto his broom and bringing him to a halt in the air.

Fans from the stands surrounded Draco as he laid Harry on the ground, pulling off his green cape and tossing it aside. He placed his hands on Harry's chest as he lowered his ear to the unconscious boy's mouth.

"He's not breathing!" someone yelled anxiously as Draco tilted Harry's chin back, brushing a finger into his mouth to make sure nothing was blocking his windpipe.

Then, with the eyes of all on him, he pressed his mouth to Harry's.

A deep breath of air pressed into Harry's lungs as his chest rose and fell. But Harry didn't come back.

"COME ON!" Draco yelled before putting his mouth back to Harry's. Hermione pressed through the circle of people with tears in her eyes.

"No! Harry!"

But Draco was absorbed with trying to bring Harry back. The chest rose and fell once again, but still nothing.

Tears formed in Draco's eyes now, spilling down his cheeks.

"No - Harry!" he sobbed as he retilted Harry's chin. "You can't go! Not like this!"

Hermione fell to her knees on the opposite side of Harry, taking one of his hands. She pressed it to her lips as Draco laced his fingers, pumping Harry's chest in quick thrusts.

"Don't leave before I say I'm sorry!" Draco said as he bent to give Harry another breath. Rising and falling once more. Again, no life.

Sitting back on his feet, Draco cried. "It's no use…" he said through tears. "He's…dead."

Harry was sweeping down a dark tunnel. Everything was black here and the sound of echoing wind blasted all around him. It was almost like flying - but not.

Where was he? He was lying down on his back, that much he knew. But what had happened?

Bringing a hand to his face, he felt for his glasses. But they were not there. What was going on? It was black out so that he couldn't see, but even so, he had a feeling he didn't need his glasses anymore.

A cool sensation tingled through his veins, reminiscent of what he felt when he smelled a dentist's office with all the minty scents. The sound of howling wind changed to that of rippling water. And yet - he felt like he was extended in a dark tunnel.

It seemed like he was going to be lost in darkness forever when something appeared before him, near his feet. A light no bigger than a pinprick. Quickly, that light began to grow, shooting out rays of turquoise into the darkness. Harry felt a feeling of contentment wash over him, like he could stay in the warmth of the light forever.

But something was pulling him back. Something was happening inside him. A stream of blue light poured out his mouth as he opened it. The stream joined the building ball of light at his feet.

The glowing ball began to shrink as he slowed and started moving backwards. Once again he was left in darkness until he opened his eyes.

Draco couldn't accept that Harry was gone. Pressing his mouth back on Harry's, he blew again into the stiff lungs.

The chest rose…

But this time it didn't fall. The air was quickly pulled out of Draco's mouth as Harry coughed and spluttered, pulling his head back.

Draco sat up, brushing the hair out of Harry's face as the emerald eyes opened.

A moan escaped Harry's lungs as they were reintroduced to the sweet air. He gulped it down as he slowly regained his sight. The darkness had faded into faces surrounding him, Draco and Hermione in the front.

His cheeks pulled back in a smile as though he was awakening from a pleasant dream.

"Draco?" he started as Draco sat back, a relieved look on his face. "You…you saved me?"

Draco grinned as he rubbed Harry's hair, messing it once again.

Beneath the messed hair was a white-hot lightningbolt scar dripping needlepoint blood trails.


	24. Severing of Ties

Chapter Twenty-Four:

Severing of Ties

It took a while for the crowd that formed on the Pitch to dissipate, but it eventually did and the crowd paraded to the Hospital wing. Once again Harry was infirm and now the attention was actually on him.

The subject of the game traveled on many tongues through the castles voluminous corridors. Students wanted a rematch between Gryffindor and Slytherin, but Dumbledore announced that there couldn't possibly be more excitement in a rematch and concluded that the Quidditch Cup would be awarded to both Houses at the end of year feast.

Amidst the groans of disappointed fans, Dumbledore had them ushered out, encouraging them to assemble at the Great Hall for the dance that night.

Everything appeared well, but all was not resolved in the castle.

Up in his room, Draco changed out of his robes and into his dress robes for the dance taking place in a few hours. Without warning, the door flew open, clanging against the wall with a shudder.

In the doorway in all his glory and splendor was Lucius Malfoy, snake-headed cane in hand as he fumed.

"DRACO!" he hissed as he stormed into the room, slamming the thick wood door shut.

Draco didn't look up, continuing to fold his clothes neatly atop his bed coverings. "I was wondering when you'd show," he said in a smarmy tone.

Lucius whipped his cane towards the boy with a look of rage on his face.

"How dare you!"

Draco turned to face him, standing his ground.

"How dare I what?"

Lucius snapped his wrist out, pointing the snake head inches from Draco's face.

"You SAVED Potter!"

"I _saved_ my classmate's life," Draco corrected. "What is so wrong with that?"

"What's so wro -"

"You should be proud of me, Father." Draco cut in.

"DON'T YOU BE SMART WITH ME!" Lucius bellowed. "YOU RUINED OUR PLANS!"

"_Our _plans?" Draco replied snappishly. "What do you mean _our_ plans?"

Lucius thrust the cane up, knocking Draco in the chin. He fell back with a yelp.

"Not us as in _you_ and me you miserable excuse for a son!"

Draco massaged his now throbbing chin. But he wasn't going to show that he was hurt. He still had his pride.

"Who're you talking about then?" he snapped back.

Lucius turned from him, walking to the window.

"Oh, there's so much you don't know, Draco. So much…"

"Then why not _tell_ me?"

Lucius chuckled nastily.

"Because…you think I can trust you now? And what is this rubbish you're wearing?"

Draco slapped the cane away.

"Dress robes."

Lucius laughed. "_Dress robes_? For what?"

Draco glared at him heavily. "For the dance."

"There's a _dance_ at this miserable school?" Lucius mused. "And you're going alone?"

"No. I'm going with Hermione."

The words slipped out before he realized what he was saying. It was in that moment that he sealed his fate.

A sharp pain forced the wind out of his lungs as the shaft of the cane connected with his stomach, causing him to double over. The heat of it raged inside him, spiraling up his windpipe like a fire. Before he could cough or suck back in the air that was lost, the rod connected with his lower back.

The floor rushed up to meet him as he collapsed on himself. He couldn't breathe. Slowly, he was suffocating. But then he spluttered and his father was above him.

A hand clasped the collar of his robes and lifted him up by the neck. He was so close to his father's face now that he could smell the sour scent of his breath.

"You miserable wretch." Lucius said darkly. A smack across the face erupted stars in Draco's eyes. "How dare you go against my wishes." Another blow to the face, a knuckle striking his eye. It felt as though it were being ripped out.

Then, everything was falling. His skull connected with the floor, a sea of black clouding his vision.

His father's voice echoed as he felt the room tile and spin.

"Let's see you go to that dance now. You are no longer part of this family."

But Draco found his voice and cried out.

"Where am I supposed to go?"

Lucius was halfway out the door, his figure blurred and shaking.

"Go to your Mudblood friends."

And with that, Draco was left, a broken boy on the cold stone floor.

The Great Hall was brilliantly lit, the hundreds of floating candles having been collected into the center of the ceiling. What appeared to be a chandelier hung suspended from the collection of white candles. Resulting from this change of decoration was a dimmed Hall where all the tables were swept to the side to allow congregations on the floor.

It was really quite large without the tables. The torches were no longer red and orange but icy white and blue. In accompaniment, streamers shimmered in the air.

Hermione stood outside the Hall, arms crossed in anxiety as she waited for Draco. He had promised to meet her by the entrance before they went in. His whole thing had been appearing as a couple to the school.

At least, Hermione was under the impression. But Draco wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Hermione!"

Her face lit up as she turned to see…

"Oh…hi, Ron."

She couldn't help the disappointment that showed on her face. Ron wasn't exactly the person she wanted to see. But, he looked nice.

Ron was - surprisingly - wearing very nice robes she had never seen before. They looked almost…brand new.

"Wow - nice robes!" she exclaimed as she stepped around him to see all of the jet-black robes with a stripe of maroon across the chest.

"You like them?"

"Yeah…where's you get them?"

Ron grinned.

"Fred and George sent me them with some of their profits from their Joke Shop. Mum had them flown in today before…" His happiness faded. "Before the game…"

There was a moment of silence before either of them spoke.

"What…what happened up there?" Hermione asked. "It looked like you and Harry were fighting."

Ron's eyes were aimed at the ground.

"We were."

There was another moment of silence between the two, broken only when Hermione looked up at the Marble Staircase. A gasp escaped her lips as she spotted Draco descending them.

On closer inspection, his eye was black and a deep gash was sliced across his cheek. There was a cut on his lip stemmed only by a white cotton swab. As his eyes met hers he grinned, which looked painful.

"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed as she rushed up to him, leaving Ron alone at the doors. "What on earth happened to you?"

A grin broke out on Draco's face, but lasted only a moment. It was only his defense mechanism. His voice was soft as he attempted to explain.

"I…uh…was beat up…"

"Beat up? By _who_?"

Draco's eyes lowered in shame, Hermione noticing tears forming in them.

"My dad came up to my room after the Quidditch match and…well…as you can see…"

Hermione was outraged.

"What kind of man is he?! Beating on his only son?"

Draco put a hand up to stop her.

"Hermione - please. I've had enough family matters to last me a while. Can we just…dance?"

Hermione wasn't finished, but she took his hand anyway and led him into the Great Hall. She made sure that they were deep in a crowd before she turned to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, he doing the same to her waist.

The music was soothing as she rested her head on his shoulder, taking in the scent of his neck. He smelled of expensive cologne, the sweet but tarty scent she couldn't describe with words.

Slowly, her lips brushed his soft neck in a silent kiss.

"You know," she started quietly. "I've been worried about you."

"Don't be." Draco replied shortly. "I'm tough. I can take care of myself."

"Can you?" Hermione questioned as she pulled back to look into his eyes. "From what I see, you need a little help in the defending department."

Draco shook his head.

"I'm fine -"

"No, you're not. Look at you! I have half a mind to stop you from going home for the Holidays."

This did something to Draco and he looked away, his eyes glistening in the light of the candles. He was silent for a moment, then spoke softly.

"You won't have to."

Hermione blinked.

"What?"

"You won't have to keep me from going home."

Hermione was confused. "Why not?"

Draco sighed, still looking away.

"My dad disowned me tonight."  
Hermione stopped dancing then, a wave of shock washing over her in buckets. She was lost in disbelief. How -

"Oh Draco…" she let her voice trail off, realizing there was nothing she could say to comfort him. Slowly, she pulled him into an embrace as his shoulders trembled.

"I just can't face it!" Draco sobbed into her shoulder. "What am I supposed to do now? I mean - I have nowhere to go - no home to return to…"

Thought fluttered through Hermione's head as she raced for something to say. But there was nothing.

"Hermione, I'm scared…" he sobbed. "What's going to happen? I have no money that I can call my own -"

Then, it snapped into place.

"Come home with me."

Draco stopped. Had he just heard correctly? Was Hermione actually -?

"What?"

Hermione looked into his eyes, looking back and forth from one to the other.

"Come home with me. To my house. I'm sure my parents won't mind - I mean, they don't exactly know about you yet because I haven't written and all. But -"

Draco put his fingers to her lips to quiet her. Looking deeply into her eyes, he smiled.

"Thank-you, Hermione Granger." he said, just before his lips met hers in a soft kiss with Ron watching just feet away.


	25. Frosted Realizations

Chapter Twenty-Five:

Frosted Realizations

Ron couldn't take it. The sight of Draco kissing Hermione brought old emotions back to the surface that he thought were long gone. Draco had been so smooth, sweeping Hermione away with his short sentences and dripping tears. That was when Ron realized he had no chance.

Turning on his heel, he shoved past students dancing together. Ron found himself in a sea full of romance that he could never be a part of. It was all too painful.

So, he ran away.

The Entrance Hall flew by him as he searched for an escape route.

Everywhere, there seemed to be someone. Teachers were positioned all over the place. Students milling outside the Great Hall were peppering the Entrance Hall. But, Ron needed to be alone.

Out the big oak doors, he slipped out into the night.

The chill in the air bit at him, like needles pricking him all over his face and arms. He regretted not having a jacket, but kept on walking anyway. For a second, he realized where he was going. But then he pushed it from his mind. All that mattered now was getting where he was going.

His footsteps crunched on the gravel of the path leading to a crossroads marked by a sign hastily staked into the grass, partly held up with magic. Ron took the right, hurrying on. He was almost there.

No longer able to see the lights of the castle, Ron slowed to a stop, his breath coming out in puffs of billowing mist. The cold stung his lungs, but that didn't matter now.

He was at the tree beside the Great Lake. Moonlight sparkled off the waves that lapped on the shore just feet away. Finally, Ron had made it to his serenity.

Taking a seat on the frozen grass just outside the sand of the shore, Ron wrapped his robes around his shoulders. A gust of frosty wind blew at the scene, rippling the overgrown blades of grass as it did to the water.

_Time to think_, Ron thought to himself. There was too much happening to him.

Well, he thought to himself. Not exactly happening to _him_ in particular. Perhaps the problem was that he was too emotional. That was probably it. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't gotten upset over friendship that year.

Was it that he expected too much of people?

Perhaps…

The sound of rustling grass made him jump. Turning around, he was someone standing not far off. The figure's face was shrouded in black, but Ron could feel its eyes on him.

"Who's there?" he called to the figure.

Slowly, the figure started towards him. Inch by inch the darkness was replaced by the blue moonlight. When the face was finally revealed, Ron breathed a sigh of relief.

"Harry…you scared the crap out of me!"

Harry smiled and stood beside him, looking down. "May I?" he asked meekly after a moment of waves lapping.

Ron nodded. "Sure. Why not?"

Harry sighed as he took a seat, staring off into the night.

Ron…" he started after another moment of silence. A breeze blew at them, toying with their hair. "I…uh…I wanted to -"

"Harry," Ron cut in, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Please don't do this."

Harry blinked.

"But - I have to apologize. How can I -"

"Harry, I've had enough. No more apologizing. No more sorry's. Let's just take the conventional route and forget about it. Okay?"

Harry took this thought in for a moment, then nodded. Ron thought he saw tears in Harry's eyes as Harry took Ron in an embrace.

"Ron, I just - it's me. I'm being such a loser lately and I can't help it. I'm not myself…"

"You're not a loser."

"Yes, I am."

Harry's voice echoed across the Great Lake. But Ron shook his head again.

"Harry, there's your problem. You're always making yourself out to be the bad guy. And you're not."

Harry shrugged.

"It just seems like I'm always the one who's wrong. I usually am, you know."

Ron chuckled. "You're right."

Harry pushed away from him with a grin on his face. "Well thanks, Ron."

"Well, it seemed like I was getting nowhere without agreeing with you."

Harry put his arm around Ron's shoulders, hugging him close. Things were back.

"You know, Ron," he started. "I missed having you around. Now I know what it is I missed about you."

Ron looked up, curious.

"What?"

Harry smiled.

"Your laugh."

They both chuckled together, enjoying each other's company. Then, the laughter died down and Ron became serious, putting his arm around Harry.

"You know, I heard Draco talking to Hermione." he started. Harry looked over at him, his arm falling from his hold on Ron's shoulders. Ron went on. "He's going to Hermione's house for the Holidays."

Harry seemed unaffected. "I knew it."

"So, since I'll be all alone without friends at the Burrow all vacation…you wanna come stay with me?"

Harry grinned. "Could I pass up such an awesome offer?"

Ron was relieved. He was sure Harry was going to say no. But now the relief washed over him as they sat there, enjoying each other's company once again before heading up to the warmth of the castle.

Unbeknownst to the two friends sitting by the lake, two other figures were watching them down by the Dark Forest. One, a tall pale man in billowing robes. The other, a sniveling man who resembled a deformed creature.

"Look at them, Wormtail." the tall man said with a sneer.

The second man, Wormtail, watched the two boys anxiously.

"They're s-so unsus-s-specting, Master." he whispered.

"I know," the taller replied. "Oh, how touching. Potter and the boyfriend reunited. I'm crying, Wormtail. Really, how cute."

Wormtail couldn't discern between the sarcasm and seriousness in his master's tone, so he just remained silent.

"So," he started. "What are we going to do, Master?"

The taller snarled.

"Wait until they leave the school on the train. We'll follow them to King's Cross. Then, he'll lead us to where they're staying. It'll be so easy, Wormtail."

"Yes, Master."

"But, Wormtail," the taller started as they turned to leave. "Remember that I want Potter alive. The other can be done away with as the others wish, but I have a special chamber to keep Potter in. We'll have fun with all my little _toys_."

Wormtail winced. He'd only caught a glimpse of the torture devices through a barred opening in the door. But with that one glimpse, he could tell Potter's death would be slow.

Hurrying after his master, they left to await the arrival of the winter Holidays.


	26. Homeward Destinations

Chapter Twenty-Six:

Homeward Destinations

Though it seemed that it would never arrive, the last day of term finally did on the coldest day of the year. The students of Hogwarts School awoke to find their dorm windows half covered by freshly fallen snow. Delighted Gryffindors rushed out to the grounds after breakfast to collect the icy snow into their hands, seeking out targets to pelt until surrender.

But not all the students were enjoying the white surroundings of the winter wonderland.

Up high in the Gryffindor Tower in the girl's dormitory sat Hermione. A large pile of clothing was before her, waiting to be stuffed into her now small-looking suitcase.

It seemed she couldn't decide what to bring home and what to leave. Each shirt was important to her - she had to look good because Draco would be living with her.

This seemed too good to be true. Almost a fairy tale to her. Before she had been fighting non-stop with Draco. Now it seemed that they were meant for each other. This she didn't want to believe because she didn't think that she'd find her soul mate at Hogwarts. But, it definitely seemed that way at the moment as she was packing her things.

Finally, she'd be able to get home and not be alone. She was an only child and it got really boring over the summer and winter holidays to be lonely with only her parents to talk to. Of course, she had other friends, who didn't know about her wizard school and education, but they were like her - away all year until breaks. They didn't really have much to talk about when she got the chance to see them. They had more in common when they were younger.

But now that was changing. She was not only going home with someone who was her own age and who could talk to her, but someone she cared about very much.

"Draco…"

It wasn't long before the students of Hogwarts School were packed and ready to leave on the departing Hogwarts Express, shoveled out of the snow that surrounded it. Happy conversations about Christmas and presents was in abundance as Harry and Ron made their way down the steps of the castle and out towards the carriages that would take them to Hogsmeade Station.

Harry was glad that he could talk to Ron again. It was amazing that he'd decided that Harry could stay with him for the holidays. That was an entire week of vacation that the two of them could have - like they used to. Harry planned on having fun, which was something he hadn't had in quite a long time.

Ron grinned at him as they found a carriage.

"Well, here we go." he said, stepping into the carriage. Harry followed. "Back to the Burrow for fun and presents."

"Not many for me, I don't think." Harry muttered as they closed the door and the carriage started off.

"Huh?"

"I don't think I'll be getting any presents from anyone. Unless your mum decides she's going to knit me a sweater again. She usually does…though I don't deserve it."

Ron gave him a shove on the shoulder with a smile. "Of course you deserve it! Harry, you've been through so much this past year that I admire you for it."

"Really?" This was hard to believe.

"Seriously. I know we had our rows in the past, but that's in the past, Harry."

That was the way that Harry wanted it. In the past. He didn't want to remember getting jealous of Ron or the Quidditch Match or anything. Especially not Hermione and the notes and all that. He just wanted to start off anew. And when he returned after the holidays, things would be better. People would have forgotten everything that happened with he and Hermione and he'd be accepted again.

The trip to the station was shorter than Harry had remembered it, but it was nice to know that they were that much closer to home.

Getting out, they spotted many of their friends doing the same. Neville was getting out of his own carriage with Ginny, preparing to return to his grandmother who took care of him. Ginny smiled as he tripped on a snow bank not far from their carriage and helped him regain his balance.

"They're a nice couple," Harry remarked as the train pulled into the station. Ron turned to him with a grin.

"Ssh. Nobody knows yet."

"Oh," Harry replied with a grin. "Sorry. They're just friends then."

"Yeah," Ron muttered as he watched another carriage pull up behind Neville's. Hermione and Draco stepped out of it. "Just friends."

Hermione seemed very happy. Draco took her by the hand and she led them over to Ginny and Neville. They started in eager conversation. Hermione appeared to be poking fun at the situation. Neville blushed.

"Let's go over and talk to them," Harry started. This shocked Ron.

"Wha - after all you've been through -"

"Come _on_, Ron."

He did follow reluctantly, and they met up with the group. Surprisingly, Hermione acted as if nothing had happened.

"So, you two spending Christmas at the Burrow then?"

Harry grinned.

"Yeah. How can we not? There's so much to do there. Much better than at the Dursley's, I'll tell you that."

The group chuckled. Then a silence came over them before Harry started again.

"Um…Hermione. Can I talk to you alone for a second."

Hermione glanced at Draco and then nodded. "Sure."

They walked over to a tree not far from the station's main building where Harry turned to her and started.

"Hermione, I feel really bad about what's happened this year."

Hermione seemed a little uncomfortable.

"Look - Harry, don't worry about it. I think it was something we both learned from and let's leave it at that."

"So, are we still friends then?"

Hermione smiled and gave him a hug. He smelled the scent of her hair and couldn't help but smile back.

"Yeah. We're still friends. I don't know what I'd do without you, Harry. You make life exciting, you know that?"

Harry chuckled.

"Thanks, Hermione. I was really worried that you hated me or something."

"No - I couldn't do that!"

They shared another laugh before the silence took over. Harry glanced over at the group and noticed that Draco seemed quite happy talking with them.

"So…you and Draco are happy then?"

Hermione nodded.

"Yeah…that's the strange thing. I used to hate him, but now I can't get enough of him. He's charming in a way. You know the feeling?"

"Oh yeah. I know the feeling. Really well."

The sound of the train whistle broke through the cold of the air and urged them onwards towards the train. It would be departing shortly.

It seemed that everything was perfect then. All the troubles that the friends had been through were sifted out of the year and they could start again. Draco was a friend with all of them, and it was like a miracle had happened. None of them would have predicted it. Harry least of all.

It was strange how one enemy had turned towards them, wishing friendship. How unknowing they had been! The prejudices that had once clouded their vision didn't allow them to see that the boy who had struggled to pick fights with them had been through the same troubles that they had.

Harry appreciated this most of all. He'd made a new friend this year. One that was unexpected.

Steam billowed up out of the Hogwarts Express as they all boarded it. The train was going to take them home. But not only that: It was going to take them into a new beginning. A new chapter in their lives that none of them could foresee.

Great things were happening, and the new alliance between Harry and Draco would prove to be one of the most important things of all.

End of _The New Alliance_

_The New Alliance_ was begun on May 17th, 2004 and was completed March 1st, 2005.

_Thank-you to all. It has been quite a ride._

_superguy_


End file.
